#now where's the 4k version

[kirbyddd]

between Dread continuing from a game on GBA (and really every game prior to that too) and Prime 4 continuing from 2 games on GameCube and Original DS, Metroid has the longest narrative endurance of any multi-creator series I've ever seen. Threads left in stasis decades ago when the series was shelved picked right back up once development resumes—an entire generation of developers later—like nothing ever happened

[hawkwidows]

confirmed: age of ultron still puts me in the shittiest mood you've ever seen

[deus-ex-mona]

looking on at the ✨hype✨ about last stage like

[harringtons-cupid]

After Dark

Pairing: Coworker! Steve Harrington x fem!reader:

Warnings: Smut, p in v, unprotected sex, nicknames, praising, semi-public sex, mentions of smoking, getting high. Swearing, touching. Cum eating, fingering, pussy eating. Making out. Minors do not!!!

W.C: [4k]

Summary: Your shift at the Family Video store with Steve Harrington, results in more than just a passing glance when your boss introduces a 24-hour trial.

Author's note: This is just horny posting, alot of smut or intentions of smut is mentioned in this! I want to thank @stevesxyellowxsweater for helping me write this.

Please reblog to support me! TYSM🤍

There has always been flirting between you and Steve, maybe a cheeky attempt at a pass. But you always got interrupted, whether it be in the break room or as you were opening up.

You and Steve had never really hung out after work, wanting to keep it a strictly work related relationship.

This proved to be difficult when it was clear that you both wanted each other.

It resulted in ass pinches as you served customers, his fingers grazing your clit in the stockroom. You always found each other in the hidden parts of the store, just on the blind spot of particular cameras. And the cameras weren’t programmed to load up until 8:50am. Giving you just enough time for a sneaky kiss or touch.

Your favourite thing that he had done, was begin to eat you out before you were rudely interrupted by a customer banging on the glass doors. You were both hidden behind large display cases of videos, Steve popped his head up with an annoyed look. Not able to continue for the next few days.

The summer holidays were the worst, you and Steve had worked together for 3 days and it was always the period where you spent less time together.

There was less physical interaction, more hand grazing and his semi erect cock pushing against your ass as he leant to help you with a customer.

The heat didn’t help either of you, it meant that you were always in a range of different skirts with your family video uniform on the top. The shortest ones were simply to tease Steve, you knew that he jerked off to the thought of you bending over the counter.

You always wore the smallest of underwear, your favourite dress was blue with thin white stockings and a white thong.

When you had a movement alone, you’d be pushed up against the wall with his hand around your throat. Until the sound of movement appeared outside, he’d transform into a fake smiley Steve.

Not one with a fat throbbing cock.

This summer it was different, it was the middle of June 1986 in Hawkins and you found yourself lusting over someone from outside of work.

Of course, Steve hated this.

“What about us? He hissed behind you as you added a new video onto the shelves.

“Steve, it’s not like I’m with him?” You rolled your eyes, turning to look at him.

“But, babe. We said there was no one else” he followed you like a lost puppy.

You shook your head, hiding your smile behind more videos. He was getting annoyed now, twisting your body around so your back was pushed against the display cage. All the video tapes in your hands dropped to the floor.

He was towering over you now, his hand pressed firmly above your head. The tension was heavy as he stared into your eyes, his lips wet and plump.

You had never slept with him, it was always just playful touches and many almosts. Everyone used to talk about how good in bed Steve was but you enjoyed the chase and the tease.

This jealous version of Steve was turning you on, you wanted him to take you there and then but unfortunately, your boss was in today.

The jingle of the bell startled you both, quickly bending down to pick up the videos. Steve traced his finger across your neck before walking to meet the boss.

You heard them chatting from a distance as you continued your job, your clit was throbbing between your legs.

He drove you crazy and he knew it, so lying about having someone else made him want you more.

You moved onto a different shelf when you looked up from the videos, watching as your boss walked into the back offices. Your eyes flicked onto Steve who shot you a wink before turning his attention onto the customer at the counter.

Shying, you ached to be near him so you attempted to finish your task as quickly as you could. Your boss never stayed long so you knew that you and Steve would have some alone time at least today.

Robin usually closed Family Video but she wasn’t on the schedule which you thought was odd. After finishing the tedious task of replacing videos on the shelves, you wander over to Steve.

“So, what was he talking about?” You said, referring to the boss.

“He is trialing the shop to be open 24 hours, starting tonight” Steve spoke with slight annoyance.

All the blood in your drained, this was something both you and Steve dreaded. Neither of you really enjoyed the shifts at this place, they were long and tedious. You only turned up because of Steve.

“So, what we gonna do?” You asked, pouting at him slightly.

“He’s going to come out with a bit more information later” he shrugged, turning to face the entrance.

Steve was really close to you, his hand was by your side. Brushing your skin as he smiled and spoke in an animated way.

Everything about this day felt off, all you wanted to be back with the usual day to day routine with Steve.

You both worked until 12pm before your boss dismissed you both for a few hours, “a break” he called it.

Both of you felt a bit lost, he invited you to sit in his car. It was awkward at first, neither of you knew what to say. You had never sat in his car before, you examined the interior as he rolled.

“I didn’t know you smoked?” You asked breaking the deafening silence.

“Oh baby, there is a lot about me you don’t know” he grinned, his eyes twinkling in the light .

Tonight would be the night that you were to find that out.

It was only small, you watched as he stuffed tobacco into the paper before rolling it up.

“So, is it just me and you all night?” You asked nervously.

You watched as a few customer entered and left the shop, it was getting later as you passed it between you two.

“Is there a different question under there?” He whispered seductively.

“No, I’m just stressed about this new shift idea.” You said firmly, looking at him sternly.

“It’s alright babe, I’ll get the boss to lay it all out for us” he grinned at you, leaning forward to kiss the top of your head.

You forced a smile on your face and exited the car behind him, you weren’t particularly nervous about doing a longer shift with him. You both often worked long into the evening but Steve had never seen you with your guard down and least of all, without makeup.

Steve seeing you naked made you nervous, you could easily put on a mask when you were at work but this was different.

You always ended a bit giggly and soft at night, the relationship you had both built was the opposite of that.

The boss stood in front of you both, overly perfumed from your “break”. You listened to his talk about his intentions, your nerves were overflowing as Steve’s hand found yours behind your back.

A few hours later, you and Steve were sat on the floor behind the counter. Playing strip poker hiding from the cameras, there had been no business for over an hour.

You were both bored, sneaking out for smoke breaks every 30 minutes. You were both giggling as you slipped your uniform off your shoulders.

The top of the shirt pressed against your breasts constricting it even more, Steve struggled to focus on his next playing hand.

You bit your lip, pretending to look down at your cards but in the corner of your eye. You noticed his cock moving between the fabric of his tight black trousers and his thin boxers.

The game continued until you were both as naked as you could be for on shift antics, cheeks flushed red as your winning cards were splayed face up.

You grinned, your fingers pressing on the small buttons of your chest. You were very close to exposing yourself to Steve before his sudden movements changed that.

He had pinned you into the floor, your heads pressed up to the wall as his body heavy against yours. His throbbing cock was hard on your pussy.

Time went slow as he lowered himself down to your lips, you were both glad that the camera just about missed you. The heat that was rising from your pressed bodies was insufferable.

Steve’s eyes darted from you towards the noise from outside, your eyes widened as you both jumped up to changed as quickly and inconspicuously.

Hiding your laughter through amused smiles and looks, your fingers slipped on the buttons from the adrenaline.

The customers were louder than most, which meant that you could follow their voices. Allowing you more time to tidy yourselves up, so that when they walked towards the counter.

Steve’s face drained at the sight of them, he knew them.

“Eyyy, the King himself!” One of them jeered, it was obvious they had been drinking.

You slipped away from the counter, pretending to busy yourself as his awkward interactions filled the space.

After a few painful back and forth comments, they disappeared into the dark of the night and you felt Steve relax.

Strip poker wasn’t continued after that interruption, he kept his distance. Collecting the loose videos and replacing the spaces, as you stood at the counter.

You were unsure what created the distance but it felt like you had been ripped apart. This was different than any other relationship, you were so in your head because you both had to hide the touches and steal the glances.

This trial had meant that you and Steve spend more time together than you did during a shift. Both of you were acting differently than usual, instead of soft touches. It was rough and daring interactions.

Needing a few moments of fresh air, you disappeared out the back. There was a cool breeze as you rested your back onto the brick, the stars twinkling in the sky when the door opened behind you.

His shoulders touched yours, his fingers pinched and twirled an old roll hidden in his pocket. The amber glow of him lighting the smoke, his head tipped and eyes tight shut.

You examined him in the glow, he was stupidly beautiful. The imperfections in his cheeks were nonexistent, as you pulled his face closer to yours.

Kissing him aggressively, the amber glow flickered as his hand dropped away his face. He let it go out between his fingers, drunk on your kiss.

His body sliding closer to yours as your hand cupped his face, practically eating him but you didn’t care. It was dark and you were both alone for the first time ever.

No customers, no condescending bosses, no cameras and no teasing coworkers.

It was another slow hour, meaning that you and Steve could slip into the storeroom to properly kiss until the sound of a customer broke you apart.

You were slightly enjoying it, stealing smoke breaks before he pushed against the wall and his hand slipped your the inside of your thigh.

“Let’s go to our spot” he breathed against your lips.

“In the store?” You pulled away alarmingly.

He shrugged with a wide grin on his face,

“I’ll put a sign up” he said, making out that he was compromising.

But you weren’t sure if you wanted to have sex in the middle of the store, you walked with him though.

There were two television broadcasting the latest films into the store, a new way of promoting films. It wasn’t as annoying as you thought, you picked the next film.

Steve rolled his eyes, a romantic film. Though secretly he loved it.

You were leaning against him as the film played, the store was empty for next couple of hours. Steve had placed a blanket underneath for you both to lie on, his body was on yours as you kissed.

His hand resumed its position from earlier, teasing your thigh but never edging further.

For some reason, he didn’t want to do anything more than kissing.

“Do you want to go further?” You asked panting against his lips.

Without saying a word, he lifted you up with the blanket and led you into the breakroom. You were only there together when your shift was starting or ending.

So when he led you onto the sofa that neither of you sat at, you felt more at ease. Relaxing into the leather as his hands pinched at your skin, it was desperate.

Within seconds, he was kissing down your body. Tugging at your skirt, shuddering as his lips kissed your inner thighs.

This was the most he had ever done, you were always distracted by your jobs.

But tonight, there was no one.

So he continued, pulling down your skirt and underwear. There was a deep lust in his kiss.

“Fuck, your pussy is so pretty baby” he breathing, simply staring at it.

Giving your clit one spank as he continued to look, his eyes clouded with mischief. His fingers began to play with your clit, teasing it.

Watching as you became worked up underneath him, his lips reached your nipples and sucked them hard.

“I have wanted you for so long Steve” you panted as his fingers rubbed your clit more aggressively.

“You have, haven’t you?” He cooed at you, his eyes boring into you as his nail grazed your clit.

You moaned loudly, your head fallen onto the cushion behind you. Your legs spreading, giving him more room to fit.

This is what you had wanted for so long, just his fingers and energy were making you so wet.

It was pooling in your lower stomach as his finger slipped inside you, hitting your soft spot. Making you dig into his skin at the pressure he was hitting.

Rocking your hips back and forth, practically begging him for more than one finger. So he slipped more than 2 inside you, completely stretching you out.

You loved it. Fucking yourself on his fingers as his tongue came into contact with your throbbing clit.

The sensation overwhelming, his moans vibrating against your pussy. The quiet sounds of the videos playing distantly in the background, just as you were on the cusp of cumming.

Steve pulled his fingers and mouth away from you, making you whine and buck your hips in desperation.

''Shush now baby, you'll get the attention back'' he cooed, you tried to reach for him but he pushed you back.

Watching helplessly as his cock fell out of his boxers, your jaw practically gaping open at the sight of it. You had heard the whispers from girls in the shop but you didn't believe it.

His fingers were tight around his shaft as he slowly warmed himself up, not that he needed it. You could see the precum glistening in the dim light, feeling mischeivious you began to touch yourself at the sight of him.

''Oh you really are in for it.'' he said huskily, the groan was caught in his throat as he lined his tip up with your entrance.

He didn't stop you from playing with yourself, rather encouraging it as he slid his cock deeper inside you. Filling up around your walls, the sound he made was heavenly.

Starting by bending his body forward, his pelivs against yours lifting your legs up in front of him and thrusting. It made you quiver as you grew wetter and wetter by the second.

He continued fucking you until you were a shaking mess underneath him, getting you to the same point before he stopped. Suddenly feeling worried about that, you opened your mouth to speak but he took his hand away from your legs to shut you up.

His muscles flexed as he held onto both of your ankles with one hand, as the other was firmly on your lips.

''That's it baby, you are taking it so well'' he groaned, quickening his pace as he slowly removed his hand.

Placing both hands on your ankles as he spread them, shuddering as your pelvic muscles strained at the sudden movement change.

He was struggling to talk to you as his eyes fluttered, mumbling the words 'fuck, fuck, fuck' under his breath as you began to fuck yourself on his cock.

''Please, Steve. I really need it'' you whined, choking on your own words now.

You loved that he had taken control, lying there like his toy to fuck. The desire for him pulsated through you as the familar bubble began to stir in your stomach.

Unable to say anything because of the sheer overstimulation, you rested your head further into the pillow and looked at him. Your eyes began to roll back as your body released your orgasm.

''That's it. Let it all out babygirl'' he groaned, his fingertips were pressing hard into your skin.

He fucked you in the same position as you came hard, feeling your cum drip down his cock. He waited a second before moving your legs onto his shoulders.

Thrusting his cock deeper into your pussy, you were shaking at this point. On the same sofa in your work breakroom, your hands were scratching at his back as the sensation was increased.

He was close, you could sense that with how his body and cock had begun twitching.

''Cum for me Steve. Be a good boy.'' you whispered, taunting him as you rocked back and forth.

Your words sent him over the edge, pushing your legs from around his body. His cock was forced out of you as his cum spurted out of you onto your stomach.

Wanting to tease him further, you stroked his shaft and tip. Making him groan and shudder at the touch of you. Finally deciding not to overstimulate him even more, he stopped. He reached for a piece of useless paper to his side and began trying to wipe the cum off.

Rolling your eyes in amusement, you pulled him forward onto your chest. Feeling the squelch of the cum between you both.

“I think, we only have five minutes left before Robin comes in” you said, grinning at him.

He kisses you, sweat beads cling to his hair as your fingers flow through it. You let him kiss you for a moment longer, wanting saviour it until you would both have to leave.

You quietly changed in the hot break room, his eyes constantly switching between you and the door.

It was as empty as you left it, combing your fingers through your hair as you walked towards the counter.

You hoped that it wasn’t the end of your relationship now he had fucked you. As he pulled two of the stools up to the counter, the closest television was facing you both.

His hands were resting on your thighs, squeezing them as you tried focus on the screen.

The bell tinkled above the door and a group of teenagers entered, they were talking amongst themselves when Steve leant closer,

“You know that we aren’t over right?” His breath was hot against your cheek.

Your eyes following the voices of the group, cheeks flushed red. Relief filled your body as telepathically he was thinking the same thing.

The group appeared in front of you both at the counter, Steve let go of your thigh to input the sale into the till and saying thank you.

“Coffee?” he said, kissing your cheek firmly.

You hmm’d in response and watched him disappear into the back of the store, listening for his movement. The faint sound of the coffee machine as he was obviously tidying the breakroom for Robins imminent shift start.

A few moments later, he came back out with two steaming hot mugs of coffee. Yours was filled with milk, just how you liked it.

This was how it was during those long winter months when you didn’t wear sundresses, the tease and chase was still there but it wasn’t as hot.

As he placed the mugs down on the counter, he scanned the store for any sign of life before pushing your lips onto his and kissing you.

You felt on fire as his mouth deepened onto yours, your cheeks flushed red at the boldness of his decision.

Pulling away from him, you looked at him. He was looking at you with a dazed expression, your heart was racing. You took a sip of your coffee to try and ground yourself but burning your tongue in the process.

“Jesus, Steve. Don’t do it in the middle of the store” you snapped at him after taking a scolding sip.

His eyes changed, suddenly appearing at your outburst. Taking a seat away next to you, he turned his attention to the tv. Ignoring you completely, realisation crept in and you tried to place a hand on his knee.

“I’m sorry—“ you leant forward with a smile—“I just like all the sneaking, it makes me so wet” you whispered in his ear.

A smirk appeared on his face, his hand slipped down to your skirt. Teasing you with his fingers on your underwear, as you both drank your coffees.

The heat was rising as his fingers reached your clit with your backs to the camera and the counter covering your lower bodies.

With very little view of each of you, he could very easily get you off and you could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter by the second.

Hiding your moans and any movement as his thumb moved quicker and quicker on your throbbing clit. As you rested your head on his shoulder, a soft gasp escaped your mouth.

A noise was heard from the staff entrance but he didn’t stop until you stifled a moan into his shoulder. Catching your breath as you came in your pants, the slick sound of his thumb was heard at the same time as footsteps.

Steve didn’t remove his hand from your underwear until the creak from the break room moved away from the side door. Scooping parts of your cum between his finger, putting one finger into his own mouth before placing it in yours.

Forcing you to taste yourself on his fingers, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your shoulders before he slowly moved away from you.

“You both out there?” Robin’s voice echoed in the left of the store.

Your eyes studied Steve, finishing your coffee as you pretended to focus on the remainder of the film playing.

Robin finally entered the store, wearing her store uniform. Studying you both before walking closer,

“So, had a good shift?” She eyed you, appearing suspicious about something.

She got closer to you both, standing between you. Looking from you to Steve, you smiled at her before she stood back.

“It’s stinks of weed” she whispered with a grin on her face.

You relaxed, Steve met your eye as she turned her back for a second. He winked at you before turning to face Robin and finally speaking.

“Wanna share one before your shift?” He asked, leaning closer to you.

She nodded, walking ahead and leaving you both alone again.

His fingers twirled on your nipples, sending a shock through your body.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be forgotten about” he said with a smirk.

You watched him disappear out the back with a small pre rolled joint in his back pocket. Hiding your smile as you walked over to replace the tape in the television, not hearing Steve rush back in.

He had forgotten his lighter but like he always did, he didn’t want to leave you without a touch or a glance.

His hand found your ass and pinched it hard, making you jump before Steve pulled you closer.

“Careful baby, the camera might see” he smirked as you leant over to swap the tape.

At that moment, a few customers walked in through the door. You looked at Steve with his pleased expression and slipped from under.

“I’m going to serve the customers, see you later. Babe” you winked at him.

Knowing that he was watching you walk back to the counter, leaning over as the film began to play. Your eyes followed him as he left and you were excited for the next few hours.

Hiding from Robin was a different story, but you both enjoyed the rush. If anything, sleeping with Steve has made him want you more.

[praisethegabs]

GHOSTING YOU

leon s. kennedy x reader

synopsis: it's been four years since leon saw you die. four years since he blames himself for what happened. he can't forget and he can't move on. what happens when a ghost comes knocking on his door?

warnings: language, fake death, depression and ptsd. angst shot because why not? there's a happy ending, though.

word count: 4k

a/n: it's been a while since my last one shot here, i was trying to find something to write about when this idea came over my head. anyway, enjoy it ♡

acceptance. i finally reach it. but something is wrong. grief is a circular staircase. i have lost you.

Leon still blames himself for what happened four years ago.

Whenever he's out on a mission, he has a moment where the world around him fades, and he's back there again. The moment his life turned upside down, and he lost the only thing he truly cared about.

No amount of therapy or medication can stop him from mourning your death. No one can stop him from blaming himself. Since that day, he has changed completely. Now he is stoic, cold, and distant. He barely speaks with his friends, and he doesn't go out anymore, completely consumed by his depression.

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees you. And he sees himself — the pathetic version of him that couldn't save you. He must watch you die over and over again, and there's nothing he can do to save you. Every night he has the same nightmare, and waking up to live the day doesn't change how he feels.

It's raining outside, and he's almost drunk. The television is on a news channel, but he's not paying attention at all. He's too focused on a picture he has with you. Then, his eyes darted around, and he finally focused on the screen, and it felt like the world froze around him. Right there, in the center of the camera. It was you.

He couldn't believe it because he saw you die. He was sure of it. He went to see your body in the morgue; he even paid for your funeral. You were seven feet under; he knew that. The eyes, however, never lie. His eyes weren't lying to him, and you were there. Breathing and alive. Beautiful as the day he lost you.

“What the fuck?” Leon muttered, touching the screen to see if it wasn't a sick trick.

There's a knock on the door, and Leon freezes again. He stumbled toward the front door, taking a deep breath. He opens it, and he feels like he's about to fall. It's like he's seeing a ghost. Maybe ghosts are real, he thinks.

“Can I come in?” You asked him, closing your umbrella and leaving it on the floor.

He was clearly in shock, but he let you in. Leon closed the door behind him and simply stood there, unable to find his voice, unable to even speak. What was going on with him?

“I'm sorry.” It's the first thing you say to him, taking a seat on the couch.

“I saw you die,” Leon finally says, although his voice is barely a whisper. “I fucking paid your funeral. I mourned you for over four years.”

And now he was back. He snapped back to reality once he saw you sitting on the couch, looking at him with those eyes he loved so much. Now it wasn't the best time to talk because he was keeping four years of loss inside his chest. It was time to let it all go.

“All this time I thought it was my fault that I couldn’t save you. I kept blaming myself every single day,” Leon continued, his voice cracking a little. “And you fucking ghosted me for four years. And now you come back like nothing happened. What the hell do you want from me?”

You kept looking at him while he vented. It wasn't the time to talk because he was clearly angry, and every word could lead to a huge fight. Clearly, that's not what you want. Maybe you deserve this. Oh, you deserve this.

“I went to see you in the cemetery every single day. I talked to you, cried for you. Everyone thought I was going insane because I refused to move on,” Leon continued, the first tears finally coming to his eyes.

He stops for a moment to catch his breath. He's too angry and hurt, but he knows he needs to vent. He kept inside himself for so long that he felt he was about to explode. Everything feels like a sick prank, made especially to hurt and mock him even more.

“I feel so stupid.” He sits on the couch, burying his face in his hands as he cries and sobs.

“I'm not here expecting you to forgive me,” you finally said after a long moment of silence. “I wanted to explain what happened”

“Do you really think I'll buy it? I'm not so dumb as you think I am,” Leon laughs between his tears, looking at you.

“You have every right to be angry at me, but you need to know what happened. It's up to you if you'll believe it or not,” you tell him with a calm and collected voice, not wanting to hurt him more.

He nods, knowing there's no reason to avoid the problem even further. However, he's too disgusted to even look you in the eyes. It's like facing something he doesn't want to believe is real.

“Four years ago, I was assigned to an undercover mission. I had no choice but to pretend I was dead,” you explained to him in a very simple way.  

“So that's it? Simple as that?” Leon snaps back at you, still angry.

“I swear I had no choice. I knew they wouldn't let me get closer to you until I finished the mission, but I always made sure to see you,” you tried to tell him what you were doing during these four years. 

"You watched me? From a distance? Like I was what, a memory? A mission to monitor?" He spat the words with contempt, but underneath it all, there was more pain than anger. "And you just let me keep going... talking to an empty grave."

Leon looked up at you, his eyes red, swollen, but still burning with hurt.

"Leon, it wasn’t just a mission. It was an undercover operation involving dangerous people. If they suspected I had any connection to you, you would’ve been dead. You. Even your coworkers. I had to erase myself from the world."

You took a deep breath, struggling to keep your voice steady.

"But I’m not just anyone!" he shouted, voice trembling. "I was... I was everything to you. Or at least I thought I was."

You lowered your head, the guilt pressing on your shoulders like an anchor. "You were. You still are."

The silence between you thickened. Leon ran a hand through his hair, standing up from the couch like he was suffocating. He paced the room, trying to convince himself this was real — that you were here, alive, but not in the way he had imagined.

"You know what the worst part was?" he said, voice now low, almost a whisper. "It wasn’t you ‘dying’. It was me killing myself inside every day trying to understand why. Wondering if I did something wrong. If I failed you."

"You didn’t fail. I did. I failed you." Your voice cracked.

"Then why now? Why are you only coming to me now?"

Leon stopped. He looked at you with tear-filled, exhausted eyes.

"Because the mission is over. Because I thought that maybe… after everything… you still deserved the truth. Even if you hate me forever. I’d rather tell you than keep living like a ghost."

You hesitated. The answer wasn’t simple. Nothing about this was.

He turned away, his shoulders tense. Breathing deeply, as if trying to hold his heart together with duct tape.

"You think the truth is gonna fix anything?"

"No," you said. "But maybe, just maybe, it can keep the pain from destroying you completely."

Leon didn’t reply. He just stood there, motionless, with his back to you. A broken man, torn between anger and longing. And you… still just a shadow of who you once were. The silence that followed wasn’t empty — it was dense, suffocating. Every breath felt like it had to be earned, fought for, swallowed between the cracks of everything broken between you two. Leon stood with his back to you, arms stiff at his sides, like he was afraid that if he moved, he’d shatter.

You watched him, wanting to reach out — but your body wouldn’t listen. Maybe because deep down, you knew you didn’t deserve to. You’d rehearsed this moment a thousand times during sleepless nights. You imagined tears, shouting, maybe even forgiveness. But you never imagined this silence. This unbearable quiet that screamed louder than anything else.

A voice told him to scream again, to tell you to leave and never come back. Another whispered that you were here — alive — and that had to mean something. But more than anything, he felt betrayed. You had always been the one person he could trust with anything. And now, he couldn’t even trust what he was feeling.

Leon’s mind was chaos. Every part of him was at war.

He hated how much he still loved you.

You closed your eyes for a moment. You could still see him, four years ago, in your memories — smiling, hopeful, soft. You remembered the way he used to touch your face like he was afraid you’d disappear. And in a way, you did. You wanted to say something. Anything. But the truth was, words felt meaningless. What could possibly be said to fill four years of silence? Four years of pain? Four years of believing a lie?

Leon finally sat back down, slower this time. He didn’t look at you. His hands rested on his knees, fingers trembling slightly. You saw it — not the anger now, but the exhaustion. The weight of grief he carried for someone who was never really gone.

“I mourned you,” he said quietly, almost like he was talking to himself. “I learned how to live with the hole you left. And now you’re here, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.”

“I don’t either,” you whispered. “But I’m here now. Not asking for anything. Just… letting you know I never forgot you. Not once.”

You nodded slowly, tears welling in your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall.

Another pause. Quieter, but heavier. His breathing steadied, but his heart raced. Yours did too. You both sat there, two people who used to be each other’s home, now barely recognizing the shape of what they’d become. And in that silence, there was no forgiveness. Not yet. But there was something else. Possibility. Fragile, flickering — but still there.

Leon exhaled, a rough, tired sound — like carrying that silence had hurt more than anything he’d said so far. He rubbed his face with both hands, like he was trying to scrape the past off his skin.

“Two days after your funeral,” he began, his voice hoarse, “I woke up thinking you were still lying next to me. I swear to God, I could still feel your warmth on the sheets. I turned over, ready to say ‘good morning,’ and the emptiness… it almost killed me right there.”

You felt your chest tighten but stayed quiet.

“I stopped eating for almost a week. Not because I was trying to punish myself, but because everything tasted like stone. Nothing made sense. People hugged me at the funeral like that would somehow fix anything, but all I saw in their eyes was pity. And pity… it made me sick.”

“One day, I sat on the kitchen floor with a bottle of whiskey and a gun in my hand. I stayed there for hours. I didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger, but I didn’t have the strength to keep going either. I just wanted the pain to stop. That’s it. One second of silence in here,” he said, tapping his chest.

He let out a humorless laugh, bitter and broken.

Finally, he looked at you — eyes red, wet, but steady.

“I became someone I barely recognize. Cold. Cynical. Closed off. I pushed everyone away. My friends. Even your mother. I told them I needed time, but really, I hated the world for moving on when you couldn’t.”

You tried to hold back your tears, but one slipped free before you could stop it. He saw — and for a moment, the fury in his face softened into raw pain. The pain of still loving you.

“Every damn day, I went to visit you. Told you about my week. How the coffee shop changed brands. The neighbor’s new dog. Sometimes I just sat there in silence. It was the only place I still felt… alive.”

“I loved you like I’ve never loved anyone. And you killed me while I was still breathing. And now you’re here, and I don’t know if I should hold you or scream until my throat bleeds.”

He took a deep breath, and now his voice wasn’t so much angry as it was heavy.

You felt every word like a blade to the chest. Because he was right. Because nothing you said would erase his pain. Because he had spent four years in ruins — because of you.

“I’m not even sure who I am without the pain anymore,” he said at last, eyes staring into nothing. “It became part of me. Like a scar that never closes.”

The silence returned. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t the silence of avoidance — it was the silence of two people standing at the edge of a cliff, unsure if the next step would be a bridge… or the fall. You stood there, frozen — the weight of his words pressing into your chest like a collapsing ceiling. You wanted to say something, to reach out, to close the distance that four years had carved like a canyon between you. But how do you touch someone you’ve already shattered?

“I don’t have an excuse that can undo what I put you through,” you said, your voice low and trembling. “I wish I did. I wish I could go back and change every moment. But I can’t.”

Leon didn’t respond. His eyes were glassy, fixed somewhere just over your shoulder — like looking at you too directly would break him all over again.

“I never stopped loving you,” you continued, stepping forward. “I carried you with me every day. I thought about you when I was in the dark, when I thought I might die. And the only thing that kept me going was the hope that one day, maybe, I could come back. That maybe you’d still be here.”

He flinched — just slightly. It was enough to make you stop.

“You don’t owe me anything,” you added quickly. “Not forgiveness. Not trust. Nothing. I didn’t come here to reclaim a place in your life. I came because the truth was eating me alive. Because I needed you to know that you were never forgotten. That your grief wasn’t for nothing.”

Leon closed his eyes, a single tear slipping down his cheek. For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe — and then, slowly, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, head bowed. His voice came out in a whisper.

“I don’t know if I still believe in us.”

That sentence hit you harder than anything else. But you nodded. Because he wasn’t wrong.

“I understand,” you whispered back.

More silence. But now, it felt like a thread — thin, frayed, but still connecting the two of you. A lifeline. Maybe not enough to heal yet… but maybe enough to hold onto. The silence lingered, dense and alive — like a third presence in the room, breathing between you both. Leon sat still, his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His shoulders had stopped trembling, but his entire posture screamed exhaustion. He wasn’t crying anymore, not out loud. But the kind of grief that sat inside him… that never really stopped.

Every sound — the ticking clock, the hum of the refrigerator, the distant bark of a dog outside — felt louder now, like the world had resumed while you two remained frozen in time. Leon slowly sat up, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt. His eyes found yours again, this time not with fury, but something harder to read — like he was trying to see if the person in front of him was real. Still real.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t dare. Not yet.

“Do you know what it’s like to live every day with a ghost you can’t let go of?”

His voice, when it came, was low. Hollowed out.

You nodded. You did. Maybe not in the same way — but you had your own ghosts. Your own regrets.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I do.”

He leaned back into the couch, eyes on the ceiling now.

“I thought if I ever saw you again, I’d lose control. Scream, curse you out, slam the door in your face.” He paused. “But now… I just feel tired.”

That truth hit heavier than any rage. There was no fire left in his voice — just ash. You stepped forward, slowly, cautiously, until you were close enough to sit across from him. But you didn’t. Not yet.

“I lost years of my life too,” you said quietly. “But I know… yours were worse.”

“I used to dream about you,” he murmured. “And every time I woke up… it felt like losing you all over again.”

Leon chuckled softly. Not out of humor. Out of something closer to disbelief.

“I don’t expect you to love me anymore.”

Another long silence. This one sat differently. Like neither of you wanted to break it. Your voice came out almost inaudible.

It landed like a punch to your ribs. His breathing was slower now. Steadier. The storm in his chest was still there — but it wasn’t ripping him apart anymore. It was just… present. Heavy. Real. He looked down at his hands.

Leon turned his head toward you slowly. His eyes were tired, rimmed red, but his expression was unreadable. “I never stopped,” he said. “That’s the fucking problem.”

“I don’t know what to do with this. With you. With any of this.”

“I don’t either.”

You nodded.

Another silence. This one longer. But not as suffocating. You both just existed there — broken, bruised, side by side, trying to figure out if the pieces still fit. Leon finally looked at you again. Not as a ghost. Not as a betrayal. But as someone human. Someone who hurt him — but also someone who hurt with him. And for the first time, his voice didn’t shake.

Just one word. But it wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t peace. It was a door — barely cracked open — and the unspoken hope that maybe, just maybe, this didn’t have to end in ruins. The rain outside had started to fall harder, drumming steadily against the windows, a soft rhythm like a heartbeat trying to remind them they were still alive. The city beyond was blurred and distant, hidden behind streaks of water and foggy glass. Inside, the world had shrunk — just you, Leon, and everything unsaid still echoing in the corners of the room.

“Stay.”

You sat across from him now. The coffee table between you was scattered with old coasters and a few unopened envelopes. Neither of you had moved for a while, not really. It was as if you both feared that a single wrong word or gesture might send everything crumbling again.

Leon reached out slowly for the glass of water he'd poured earlier and took a sip. His hands were steadier now. His breath is less sharp. The kind of calm that only comes after emotional devastation — a quiet, temporary stillness where there's nothing left to break.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice rasped but gentler now.

You blinked, surprised by the question, then realized your hands had been resting on your thighs, fingers curled slightly from the tension.

“A little,” you admitted.

Without a word, he stood up and walked down the hall, the sound of his footsteps soft against the old wooden floor. You stayed where you were, the quiet hum of the rain filling the room in his absence.

He came back holding a faded gray hoodie — the same one you used to steal from him on lazy Sunday mornings, the one that still faintly smelled of him, even now. He tossed it gently onto the couch next to you but didn’t sit back down yet. You slipped it over your head, letting the fabric swallow you like a memory you weren’t ready to let go of.

“Thanks,” you said softly.

Leon nodded, standing by the window now, watching the rain.

“You know,” he said after a long pause, “I used to sit here and pretend you’d walk through that door again. Like the universe would just… undo it somehow.”

You stayed silent. There wasn’t a right response to something like that. He turned around finally and leaned against the windowsill; arms crossed loosely.

“But now that you’re here… I don’t know what to do with the part of me that’s been built around your absence.”

“I don’t want to take up space I don’t belong in anymore,” you replied. “But I don’t want to vanish again either.”

His eyes met yours, tired but a little softer now.

You nodded. That was more than you expected.

“Then don’t. Stay tonight. That’s all I can promise for now. One night.”

You talked about small things. Mundane things. The new neighbor who played guitar too loudly. The cat that used to sit on his balcony. The time he tried to bake banana bread and nearly burned the kitchen down. There were pauses. Long ones. But they weren’t heavy anymore. Just… space. Breathing room.

Later, the two of you sat in the dim light of the living room, a cup of tea warming your hands. The steam curled into the air while the sound of the rain softened into background noise — a lullaby for two people learning how to share silence again. He sat close now, but not touching. Still unsure. Still tender.

At one point, he looked at you — really looked at you — and his hand brushed against yours on the couch. Not a grab. Not a reach. Just a question, asked without words.

You didn’t pull away.

Neither of you smiled. It wasn’t time for that yet.

But you sat there, side by side, as the night deepened and the rain kept falling, and for the first time in four years, you weren’t ghosts to each other anymore. You were real. And for now, that was enough. The rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle by the time you both finally found the courage to talk about the hardest thing — what comes next.

Leon stared at his hands resting on his lap, fingers tapping nervously against each other. The room was almost dark, lit only by the soft glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows that danced on the walls.

“So,” he began, voice low and uncertain, “how do we start over? After… everything?”

You swallowed, the question hanging heavy like a stone in your throat. You had no easy answer. No neat fix.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your eyes fixed on a spot on the carpet, tracing invisible patterns with your gaze. “Maybe we don’t. Maybe we just try to build something new — not from what we lost, but from what’s left.”

Leon looked up, his gaze searching yours. “And what’s left?”

You hesitated.

“Pain. Regret. Memories that don’t always hurt, but don’t exactly heal either.”

He laughed — a sharp, bitter sound. “Sounds like a great foundation for a relationship.”

You chuckled softly despite yourself. “Yeah, maybe we’re better at breaking things than fixing them.”

He met your eyes, and for the first time that night, there was a flicker of something warmer.

“But maybe that’s exactly why we have to try.”

Silence stretched between you again, but it wasn’t heavy this time. It felt like a shared breath, an unspoken agreement.

“I don’t expect things to go back to how they were,” Leon said quietly. “And I don’t want to pretend this pain just disappears. But I want to see if we can be… honest. Even if it’s hard.”

You nodded, the lump in your throat loosening a bit.

“Honesty. No lies. No ghosts.”

He gave a small, sad smile. “No ghosts.”

For the first time, the possibility of a future — however fragile — felt real. Not a promise. Not a certainty. But a chance. You reached out, letting your hand rest lightly on his. Not forcing anything. Just presence. Leon’s fingers twitched, hesitating, then slowly closed around yours. Not quite a grip, but not a retreat either.

“We’ll figure it out,” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “One day at a time.”

[ceramini]

loser jake who can’t control himself when he sees his cock bulging in ur tummy 😵‍💫

꒰ WTC ꒱ 심재윤 × afab!reader ♡ ୨୧ non-idol!au · smut + fluff · 0.6k ꔛ 𓂅 bulge kink · himbo!ikeu · he yaps (a lot) but he’s cute for it 🕷️ return ⌇ ꒰ catalogue ꒱ ꔠ

✧ NIA’S NOTE :: this request actually had me gagged and I know we all love loser jake so here it is!! also quick ann: I will be switching my requests from inbox ⇢ google form! pls fill it out for future requests so things stay organized ꒰๑´ ˘ `๑꒱ thank u always for reading fics ♡ mwah!

Jake was talking about logos.

Like, still talking.

“You know how some logos just feel safe? Like, you see ‘em and your brain’s like, yeah. That’s friendly. That’s comfortable. It’s the font, babe. It’s always the font—”

His voice was bouncing off the bedroom walls while his hips lazily rolled against you. The slow drag of his cock, already dripping with your slick, had you breathless under him. And he was up there in some brainless monologue, kissing your jaw and lecturing about the psychology of Helvetica.

“—but, like, imagine if banks used Comic Sans—”

“Jake.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Shut the fuck up and look.”

You pressed a shaky hand to your lower belly—right where you could feel the hard line of him, stretching you so deep you were dizzy. His length made a very real, very obscene bulge in your tummy. And when you pushed on it gently, your pussy clenched tight around him.

Jake blinked.

He stopped moving.

He stared like he was watching a religious experience in 4K.

“That’s—wait. That’s me?”

His hips flexed. His cock twitched inside you. He sounded scared to believe it, like he hadn’t just fucked you dumb a hundred times already.

“Holy shit, baby…”

You smiled up at him—sweaty, fucked-out, proud. “Knew you were big, huh? But not this big.”

Jake whined.

Whined.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” he said, voice breathy, a little panicked. “I didn’t—oh my god—babe—babe, you’re shaking—”

“Feels good,” you mumbled, lifting your hips to chase more of that stretch. “Don’t stop.”

But Jake wasn’t listening anymore.

He was staring—eyes wide, cheeks flushed, mouth parted—watching his cock press against your stomach from the inside like he was seeing the beginning of time.

Then, in one sudden thrust, his hips slammed forward and you screamed.

He choked. “I saw it move. Babe, it—fuck—I saw it move.”

You could barely breathe, let alone answer.

Whatever yapping, dumbass part of Jake had existed five minutes ago was gone. Killed. Replaced by some frenzied, pussy-drunk version of himself who was now grabbing your hips and driving into you like his life depended on it.

“S-so deep,” he panted, thrusting hard enough to make your tits bounce, “my pretty girl takes me so good, fuck, I’m so deep in there—look, baby—look at that—that’s my dick, holy shit—”

You couldn’t look.

You were writhing, arching, clawing at his arms as he fucked you with wide-eyed, feral focus, like he was obsessed with watching the shape of himself inside you.

“I didn’t know,” he groaned, “I didn’t know I was this big—I thought it was normal, I swear—”

“Jake—!”

“Shit, baby, you feel too good—I can’t—I’m not gonna last—”

He kissed you like a man gone mad, tongue desperate, hand pressed over the bulge like he wanted to feel it break through your skin. Your body was quivering under him, sweet and pliant and gasping, letting him use you however he wanted.

“Gonna cum in you,” he whispered, eyes flickering between your face and your belly, “wanna see it bulge and fill you up, wanna see my cum leak out while I’m still in you, wanna—”

Your orgasm hit like a truck.

And Jake lost it.

He cried out, actually cried out—slamming his cock deep one final time, holding it there as he throbbed and spilled into you. He didn’t even blink. Just moaned into your neck, hips twitching, voice breaking with every pulse of heat he shoved inside.

“Fuck, baby… I made it that deep…?”

You were shaking under him, slick, overstimulated, and full, dripping from where you were still stretched around his thick cock.

He looked down at the bulge again.

“…Can I take a picture?”

permanent taglist ✦ @gxwesn @gyarumindd @somuchdard @ssanhwatto @jinxedly @seokjinthescientist @hoonprksung @eunvyue @kkxheeluv @enhawonnie @ghost-of-minnie @underscorealastor @yazmike @tokkisluv

[greenxgloss]

Brothers Best Friend

Word Count: 4k Summary: When Namjoon, your older brother, asks you to drop off some things at his best friend's house, and you're left alone with him after the end of the summer party. Themes: Big brother!Namjoon, SoftDom!Yoongi x Eager!reader, F!receiving oral, fingering, protected penetration, smut, fluff

"can you drop this off at Yoongi's house?" your brother asked you, holding a cardboard box. "aww what did you two break up?" you teased. "shut up. this is just stuff he wanted to bring with him to uni." he said, leaving the box in the doorway of your room. "he got into university?" You questioned, making Namjoon laugh.

You watched Namjoon pull out of the driveway and head back to his own school just outside of town. You sighed, looking back down at the cardboard box full of little things yoongi's left here over the passed two years. some shirts, trinkets, an old Mp3 player, a pair of headphones and whatever else yoong has left behind.

You battled with yourself internally on whether or not to drop the box off or let Yoongi pick it up or even just forget about it all together and after changing your outfit about 7 times you picked up the box and you headed to Yoongis house.

Before texting him, you spent a few minutes drafting and redrafting your message, sending each version to your best friend for approval. It was ridiculous how much effort you put into something so simple, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Once you finally hit send, you anxiously watched your screen until Yoongi’s reply came through, instructing you to come in through the basement entrance.

The closer you got, the louder the music became, a deep bass thrumming through the air. The moment your fingers wrapped around the doorknob, you felt it vibrating beneath your touch, the soundwaves pulsing through the metal. For a brief second, you hesitated, gathering yourself before finally pushing the door open.

As you opened the door, the smell of BO and perspiration wafted back in your face. You made eye contact with colin over the crowd of people, he waved and mouthed to leave the box in a corner somewhere. You nodded and after putting the box down you decided to hang out since he'd invited you anyway.

soon you were debating with someone wether or not Sabrina Spellman in Chilling Adventures was alive. You had a drink in your hand but you had been arguing so long that it got warm and you didnt want it anymore.

"gotta go to the bathroom." You told the random dude you were arguing with as you left your jacket on a nearby chair and left upstairs to find the bathroom.

Yoongi has been a family friend for as long as You can remember. You're only a junior right now. and you've had a bit of a crush on him since 6th grade but he's your brother best friend. he probably looks at you like a little sister. either way you've had sweet fantacies about him. nothing weird dispite you calling them 'sweet fantacies'.

You had one where he asked you on a date and took you to a drive in. he rented a pick up truck and put blankets and pillows in the truck bed. You got all Your favorite snacks and cuddled through the hole movie.

Over the years, you watched how he treated his girlfriends—always the perfect boyfriend. He never brought up sex unless it was obvious the timing was right, or at least that’s what they all told you. You never felt jealous because you believed that if something was meant to happen between you two, it would. You had done your part; now, you were just waiting for the universe to push Yoongi to do his.

You walked out of the bathroom and headed back downstairs to the basement to find that everyone had left and Yoongi was picking up the last of the trash while watching some sports show. "How long was i in the bathroom?" You laughed nervously. He looked back at You. "wanna watch something?" he asked, leaving the trash bag by the door and walking back to sit on the couch. "uh.. sure." You considered leaving. it was cold and you didnt feel like walking home alone. but then you thought, when are you ever going to have a moment alone with him, at night.

You walked over and sat next to him. he arm was already sprawled out on the back of the couch but you swore he inched it closer to your shoulders.

he clicked through the channels and eventually he landed on some boring old mid 90s romcom. it had just begun. "im gonna grab a drink." You said and headed to where the beer was. it was still cold. it was still in a cooler. "grab me one too." he said, dropping his arm.

"do you remember at all what you first thought of me?" he asked after a long silence while you retrieved the glass bottles. "what do you mean? like when we first met? because i think i was like a few months old when we first met." you said, walking back to the couch, letting out a snort. "no i mean like when you first started to retain memory. like oh thats my brothers bestfriend hes tall but blah blah blah." he said, watching you walk back to the couch and sitting down.

"well i mean i thought you were cool. i thought what a pity that you were older than me." You said, handing him his drink. He looked at you for a moment, searching your eyes, as if he was looking for a sign that it was okay to admit something. And then he did.

"When you turned 14 and I was 16, I thought you were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. It was the moment I started having intimate feelings. Before that, I'd been obsessed with video games and reading. but one day it all clicked." he spoke, just above a whisper.

You could hardly believe what you were hearing. There was no way he was actually admitting that you had been his first crush. The words hung in the air, almost surreal, as he continued speaking, but you had already drifted into your own thoughts. Should you tell him how you felt? Would it be foolish to lay it all out now, after so much time had passed?

Maybe it wasn’t even that deep. Maybe he was just saying it to boost your confidence, to make you feel better about yourself. After all, for years, you had been the quiet, antisocial one in the group—the one who always stood on the sidelines while everyone else paired off and moved forward in ways you never did. Perhaps he thought this little confession would somehow make up for all the times you had been left out, a way to reassure you that you weren’t as invisible as you had once believed.

Still, a small part of you wanted to believe it meant something more.

But then, he kissed you. You could feel the heat radiating off his body. You could smell the faded cologne and the tough scent of alcohol. You leaned into him as you deepened the kiss.

You had never really kissed anyone before—except for that one time in eighth grade when you gave your first boyfriend a quick peck. You could only hope that Yoongi wouldn’t pick up on your inexperience, the hesitation in your movements a direct contrast to his own confidence. With him clearly being the more experienced one between the two of you, the last thing you wanted was for your lack of practice to be obvious.

He laid you down gently, turning toward the tv for a moment to click it off. Your breath hitched when he slipped his hands under your sweater. He pulled away for a moment. "is this okay? Are my hands cold?" he asked, breath heavy and eyes blown. You were so close to assuring him before you realized it. You shook your head.

"are your parents home?" you asked softly "yeah. they're asleep upstairs." he said still watching your body language intently. You seemed apprehensive, and he could tell. it lead him to suggest-- "The guest house. It's empty." he spoke sweetly, reading the hesitance in your eyes. You nodded in response, allowing a small smile to tug at your lips. He sounded like he wanted to make sure you were comfortable as opposed to just being desperate to get your clothes off.

Without a moment to lose, Yoongi helped you off the couch and walked you to the door. When he opened the door, the rain had just started to pick up, falling much harder than the light drizzle from when you first arrived. The temperature had also dropped noticeably, making the air feel even colder. You looked up at him. "uhh- let me get my shoes." you whispered, but before you could turn back, Yoongi had you on his arms bridal style. "no need." he chuckled. Thats when he began Running, trying his hardest not to slip or drop you. When had he gotten so strong?

Both your laughs muffled under the loud heavy rain the entire way up to the guest house until he put you down at the bottom of the steps. "you're certainly determined." You joked, earning a shy smile from him. It was too dark for you to notice the faint flush spread across his cheeks, but you would have found it endearing.

The two of you walked into the carpeted room in a rush. Yoongi pulled you in for a kiss once again, and you could feel just how cold he had gotten, his teeth chattering through the kiss. "Maybe we should get out of these wet clothes." he pulled away for a moment, huffing in an unconscious attempt to heat himself up. You nodded frantically as you watched him peel his soaked shirt off and then helped you take off your sweater, connecting your lips again and slowly lowering you onto the bed, having made your way, stumbling and disoriented when the pair decided to leave the lights off.

Yeah being in the bed may have freaked you out a little, a bed is very different from a basement couch after all, the implications and confirmations jolting you into how serious this was getting, but you tried your hardest to soothe yourself. And then you started thinking;

Are you really about to do this with your brother's best friend? The brother you just saw a few hours ago. It probably showed that you were feeling a bit disgruntled with yourself because Yoongi pulled away from the slobbering kisses he was leaving on your neck. "are you okay? are you sure you're okay with this?" he asked, scanning your facial expressions. You thought for a moment. What does it matter? No one has to know. Besides, it's not like Namjoon hasn't dated your friends.

"yeah. this is totally fine." You smiled, whispering. He smiled back. This was really happening; Your childhood crush was really making out with you. You're about to hook up with him. Not only that but he fully admit to having feelings for you for years. His smile faltered for a moment. "oh let me turn the heat up." he chuckled as he crawled out of the bed and cranked the thermostat up and climbed back under the covers just as fast.

You both still uncontrollably snickering when your cold foot would even just graze his leg or your absolute zero hand would grip his back and he'd yelp before kissing you again. He giggles like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, You thought.

But then he snaked a hand to cup your ass and gave a firm squeeze earing a soft moan against his lips. your face had been contorting just at the thought of having him closer than he already was.

Yoongi kneeled between your legs and pulled your hips up to his, and when you sat up, you straddled him. You felt his cock painfully hard against your inner thigh causing a whimper to fall from your lips. Yoongi held you close with a hand on your ass and another on the back of your neck while he kissed you. This kiss was passionate and messy but not rough; it felt sensual. Like he craved you, a long time yearning. Like he had just been waiting, patience running thin to get his hands on you.

"Pretty girl," he whispered, letting you slowly fall back, letting the misty moonlight fall across your torso, pouring in through the window. He dragged his hand from your neck down your chest and lingering on your lower stomach.

He inhaled sharply. He was falling apart at the sight of you. Fuck this is so hot. You pulled him down with you. "Please, Yoongi." You whispered as you gripped his shoulder. "Please, what baby? use your words." he pressed the tip of his tongue to the middle of his upper lip before moving in to kiss your neck again. "Ahh- Need you- I need you." you whimpered.

Yoongis hand was locked around your waist, pressing you tightly against him. He smiled against your skin before his hand reached from the back of your neck to your bra clasp, snapping it open with his thumb, index and middle finger. the ease in which he did so pulling a gasp from your throat. He chuckled, setting you down on the bed and slowly pulling your bra off. "didn't think you could get prettier." he leaned back, allowing himself the full view of your exposed chest.

a violent blush unrolled across your cheeks. He has a soft smile pinned to his lips as he took in the vision of your bare skin underneath him. Yoongi pressed his hands, gripping you just above your hips and pulled you tightly against his own. He leaned down peppering kisses over your chest before taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. You tangled one hand in his hair while the other gripped the pillow under your head. soft, airy moans leaking from your lips, similar to the heat and wetness pooling in your black panties.

"yoongi," you whined. "please you're- you're teasing." you whimpered, your hips involuntarily grinding into his. He softly groaned at the friction. Yoongi nodded, hooking his fingers under your panties and pulling them down. "I need you to be patient baby, can you do that for me?" He whispered as he lowered himself and lifted your thighs over his shoulders. You bit your lip in anticipation and nodded. "I can try." you whispered.

"Good girl. Is this okay? Need to taste you." You could feel his breath against your heat, and the proximity was driving you crazy. "Please." The only word you could return, desperation leaving you in the form of perspiration. Yoongi kissed the inside of your thighs before gently pressing a thumb through your folds to your clit. Your body tensed. "Nghh- Fuck." you whimpered quietly. "that good?" he chuckled, your responsivness boosting his ego.

Yoongi kissed your folds before reaching his tongue to your cunt, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. You writhed under him, slack jawed and those same airy moans slipping your tongue.

Yoongi was just as worked up, hips involuntarily rutting into the bed below him and soft groans vibrating into your cunt as he began sucking your clit softly, tongue poking out to lick a strip up your cunt. You were so wet you dripped down his chin. Yoongi hummed in pleasure, enjoying your flavour.

You squeezed around nothing, eager for him inside you. Yoongi picked up on this immediately and slowly slipped his first finger inside your pussy. "F-fuck fuck, oh fuck, Yoongi." This causes him to add a digit, smiling as he roughly scooped your clit and hood with his tongue.

"So close," you whimpered, gripping his hair, giving it a light tug and spurring him on. His fingers quickened in pace as he pulled away for a moment to look up at you. "I need you to cum baby, drench me, its okay," he spoke low and sultry before attaching his mouth to your heat again, tongue and swollen lips attacking your clit. "Nghn- Shit." you fell apart, gripping his hair tighter than before. Yoongi let out a groan, enjoying the sting on his scalp and lapping up your juices.

He slowly pulled out his fingers, licking them and using his thumb to collect the excess thick liquid from his chin and encouraging it into his mouth, humming as he swallowed. "soo good." he sat up, leaning down to peck your lips as you caught your breath, tasting yourself on his lips.

Your head was spinning, your chest heaving, rising and falling as you raked your eyes over his exposed milky skin.

"You ready for me, pretty girl?" he asked in a low tone, trailing his hands up and down your sides, slowing at your hips and giving them a small grip. You nodded, biting your lip again. You were spent and still craving him.

Yoongi stood to peel off his boxer briefs and set his length free. You felt your stomach flip as you took in his size and girth. He stroked it gently a few times before fishing for his wallet in his jeans on the ground. He pulled out the metallic gold packet as you sat up, leaning against the headboard. It put his size into perspective- the gold glistening in the ray of moonlight streaming through the window.

Yoongi chuckled as he looked up at you for a moment, approaching you on the bed. "Are you nervous?" he asked softly. You nodded as you blushed again. "Would it help if you put the condom on for me? get you a little more familiar?" he suggests, kneeling once again between your legs. "Yeah- I think," you stammered before letting out your own giggle and taking the condom from his hand.

"Wait." he stopped you before grabbing one of the pillows behind you and lifting you to slip it under your hips, elevating you. "Okay." he motioned for you to proceed.

You tore open the small foil packet, pulling out the slick latex before wrapping your fingers around his length. The heat of him pulsed against your palm, and you watched the way his body reacted—his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, his muscles tensing ever so slightly under your touch. Slowly, deliberately, you rolled the condom down over him, your eyes flicking up just in time to catch the way his pupils had blown wide, his forehead glistening with a light sheen of sweat, the tip of his nose flushed pink. His lips were parted, his breath unsteady.

"I-I'm ready," you whispered, barely able to hear your own voice over the pounding of your heart. Those two words sent his head reeling.

Yoongi gently guided you onto your back, his hands warm and steady against your skin. He hovered over you, eyes searching yours as he murmured, "You can stop me if it gets too uncomfortable." His voice was soft, almost reverent, and you nodded in response.

The anticipation was almost unbearable as he aligned himself with you, pressing the swollen head of his cock against your slick pussy. A slow, deliberate drag—up and down—coating himself in your arousal. The teasing friction made your thighs twitch, your stomach clench, a quiet gasp escaping your lips.

He pushed in, just the tip, a stretch that sent a shiver through your entire body. Yoongi's gaze flickered between where your bodies met and the expression on your face—your brows knitted together, lips parted, breath shaky. He groaned low in his throat, adjusting his grip on your hips, his movements slow, controlled. The pillow beneath you propped you at just the right angle, allowing him to sink deeper, dragging along the sensitive roof of your walls.

"Fuck," he exhaled, voice strained. His forehead pressed against yours for a brief moment before he pulled back slightly, giving you a second to adjust. "You feel so good, so tight."

The pleasure built slowly, a delicious ache, the kind that made you crave more. And with every inch he gave you, you welcomed him deeper. "Faster," you whimpered, gripping his forearm, feeling his muscles tense in your hand. Yoongi nodded, his own grip on your hips tightening as he picked up his pace while making sure to let you adjust before allowing his hips to snap against yours.

Technically, you had never been with anyone before, but you were no stranger to exploring your own body. The idea of pain wasn’t what unsettled you—it was everything else. The anticipation, the intimacy, the unknown.

"You ask so sweetly," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "Such a good girl for me." Each word sent a shiver down your spine, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the dimly lit room. His praise wrapped around you like a vice, tightening the coil of heat in your core. Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut as warmth spread through your body. The weight of him above you, the way his voice dripped with admiration—it left you feeling dizzy, vulnerable, and utterly consumed.

"So pretty under me," he murmured, his grip tightening just slightly, as if to remind you that you were exactly where he wanted you. "god, yoongi please keep going, stretch my pussy out so good." A moan caught in your throat as your back slightly arched off the bed. Yoongi lightly pressed his open hand on your lower stomach as he thrust in and out. "Nghh shit feels so good." he let out his own whimper.

Yoongi wanted you to finish before him—he needed it. He could feel his own release creeping closer, the tension coiling in his lower abdomen, but he held himself back, determined to draw you over the edge first. His thrusts grew sloppy, uneven, his breath coming in ragged pants as he leaned over you.

"Cum for me, baby," he murmured, his voice low and strained. "Cum all over my cock like a good girl."

His words sent a pulse of heat straight to your core, making your legs tighten around his waist. The way he spoke—so desperate, so commanding—made your entire body tremble with anticipation. Your fingers gripped the sheets as waves of pleasure built inside you, growing stronger with every precise thrust.

Yoongi’s tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, his teeth grinding together as he fought to maintain control. He slowed his pace deliberately, teasing you with deep, measured strokes, his free hand trailing down between your bodies. His thumb found your clit with practiced ease, rubbing tight, purposeful circles, sending jolts of electricity up your spine.

A choked whimper left your lips as his other hand pressed firmly against your lower abdomen, intensifying the sensation, making every movement feel impossibly deep. Your walls fluttered around him, your body begging for release. He could feel it—feel you tightening, feel the way your breathing grew erratic, your thighs trembling beneath his touch.

"That's it," he coaxed, voice thick with lust, his dark eyes locked onto yours. "Let go for me, pretty girl. Let me feel you."

And with that, the coil inside you snapped. Your moans increased in volume, a continuous string of rising shrill moans as you clenched around Yoongi's length, causing him to release with you. He continued thrusting, allowing you both to ride out your highs before collapsing next to you.

Yoongi peeled the sopping condom off his half-hard length and tossed it on the ground before turning to pull you into his arms. He pressed gentle kisses to your shoulder as he spooned you. "you okay?" His voice was sweet as honey. You hummed a yes, feeling yourself get drousy. "Was really good, yoongi." You smiled as you drifted off in his arms.

Your anxious thoughts having stopped the moment he picked your panties off, you felt safe, warm, comfortable. His afterglow and post ejaculation scent mixed with the lingering cologne, calming you unlike anything else.

Yoongi smiled, holding you tight, not a single ounce of regret in his body but no reservations about keeping tonight between the two of you and out of Namjoon's ears. He drifted into a deep sleep soon after you, huge smile on his face, completely forgetting he's leaving for school in the morning.

A/N: HII this is my first time writing a lengthy smut since I realized my smut is soooo brief (I might re-write my passed smutty fics just to lengthen them for you guys) anyway sorry for postponing this. it was an idea I had originally had for Colin Shea, an Chris Evans character from the movie Whats Your Number and it was inspired by the opening scene in the book Save The Date by Morgan Matson. it was buried real deep in my drafts and decided to recycle it for Yoongi since I really like the brothers best friend trope lol I hope everyone enjoyed this is technically like 3 years in the making LMAOOO ok love you bye

➽ Yoongi Masterlist ➽ Main Masterlist ➽ Taglist Form

[damienns]

My GIF Making process: Screen capturing using MPV player, Organizing files, 3 Sharpening settings, Basic Coloring PSD + Actions set

This is a very long post so heads up.

I’ll try to be as thorough and true as much as possible to the way I make my gifs (I already use Photoshop Actions which I’ve long since set up but now for this tutorial I’m reviewing them to show you the exact steps I’ve learned to create my gifs 😃) and present them to you in a semi-coherent way. Also, please bear with me since English is my second language.

First things first. Below are the things and tools we need to do this:

Downloaded 4K or 1080p quality videos (let’s all assume we know where to get these—especially for high definition movies and tv series—so this post doesn’t get removed, okay? 😛)

Adobe Photoshop CC or the CS versions can work as well, but full disclosure I haven’t created gifs using the CS versions since 2020. I’m currently using Adobe Photoshop 2024.

mpv player. Use mpv player to get those frames/screenshots or any other video player that has a screen grabber feature. I’ve used adapter for the longest time but I’ve switched to mpv because the press to screenshot feature while the video is playing has been a game changer not to mention ultimate time saver for me. For adapter you need to play it in another video player (like VLC player), to get the start and end timestamps of the scene you want to gif which takes me ages before I can even open Photoshop.

Anyway! Please stop reading this post for a moment and head over to this amazing tutorial by kylos. She perfectly tells you how to install and use mpv player, both for Mac and Windows users.

One thing I have to share though, I had a tough time when I updated my MacOS to Sonoma since MPV is suddenly either duplicating frames or when I delete the duplicates the player seems to be skipping frames :/ I searched and found a solution here, though it didn’t work for me lol. My workaround for this in the meantime is decreasing the speed down to 0.70 then start screenshotting—it’s not the same pre Sonoma update but it works so I’ll have to accept it rather than have jumpy looking gifs.

Now, after this part of kylos’ tutorial:

you can continue reading the following sections of my gif tutorial below.

I want to share this little tip (sorry, this will only cater to Mac users) that I hope will be helpful for organizing the screenshots that MPV saved to the folder you have selected. Because believe me you don’t want to go through 1k+ of screenshots to select just 42-50 frames for your gif.

The Control + Command + N shortcut

This shortcut allows you to create a new folder from files you have pre-selected. As you can see below I have already created a couple of folders, and inside each folder I have selected screenshots that I want to include in one single gif. It's up to you how you want to divide yours, assuming you intend to create and post a Tumblr gifset rather than just one gif.

Another tip is making use of tags. Most of, if not all the time, I make supercorp gifs so I tag blue for Kara and red (or green) for Lena—just being ridiculously on brand and all that.

Before we finally open Photoshop, there's one more thing I want to say—I know, please bear with me for the third? fourth? time 😅

It's helpful to organize everything into their respective folders so you know the total number of items/frames you have. This way, you can add or delete excess or unnecessary shots before uploading them in Photoshop.

For example below there are 80 screenshots of Kara inside this folder and for a 1:1 (540 x 540 px) Tumblr gif, Photoshop can just work around with 42-50 max number of frames with color adjustments applied before it exceeds the 10 MB file size limit of Tumblr.

Sometimes I skip this step because it can be exhausting (haha) and include everything so I can decide visually which frames to keep later on. You'll understand what I mean later on. But it's important to keep the Tumblr 10 MB file size limit in mind. Fewer frames, or just the right amount of frames, is better.

So, with the screenshot organization out of the way, let's finally head over to Photoshop.

Giffing in Photoshop, yay!

Let’s begin by navigating to File > Scripts > Load Files into Stack…

The Load Layers window will appear. Click the Browse button next.

Find your chosen screenshots folder, press Command + A to select all files from that folder then click Open. Then click OK.

After importing and stacking your files, Photoshop should display the following view:

By the way, I'll be providing the clip I've used in this tutorial so if want to use them to follow along be my guest :)

If you haven't already opened your Timeline panel, navigate to Windows > Timeline.

Now, let's focus on the Timeline panel for the next couple of steps.

Click Create Video Timeline, then you’ll have this:

Now click the menu icon on the top right corner then go to Convert Frames > Make Frames from Clips

Still working on the Timeline panel, click the bottom left icon this time—the icon with the three tiny boxes—to Convert to Frame Animation

Select Make Frames From Layers from the top right corner menu button.

So now you have this:

Go and click the top right menu icon again to Select All Frames

Then click the small dropdown icon to set another value for Frame Delay. Select Other…

The best for me and for most is 0.05 but you can always play around and see what you think works for you.

Click the top right menu icon again to Reverse Frames.

I think Photoshop has long since fixed this issue but usually the first animation frame is empty so I just delete it but now going through all these steps there seems to be none of that but anyways, the delete icon is the last one among the line of feature buttons at the bottom part of the Timeline panel.

Yay, now we can have our first proper GIF preview of a thirsty Lena 😜

Press spacebar to watch your gif play for the very first time! After an hour and half of selecting and cutting off screenshots! 😛 Play it some more. No really, I’m serious. I do this so even as early (lol) as this part in the gif making process, I can see which frames I can/should delete to be within the 10 MB file size limit. You can also do it at the end of course 🙂

Now, let’s go to the next important steps of this tutorial post which I’ve numbered below.

Crop and resize to meet Tumblr's required dimensions. The width value should be either 540px, 268px, or 177px.

Convert the gif to a Smart Object for sharpening.

Apply lighting and basic color adjustments before the heavy coloring. I will be sharing the base adjustments layers I use for my gifs 😃.

1. Crop and Resize

Click on the Crop tool (shortcut: the C key)

I like my GIFs big so I always set this to 1:1 ratio if the scene allows it. Press the Enter key after selecting the area of the frame that you want to keep.

Side note: If you find that after cropping, you want to adjust the image to the left or another direction, simply unselect the Delete Cropped Pixels option. This way, you will still have the whole frame area available to crop again as needed and as you prefer.

Now we need to resize our gif and the shortcut for that is Command + Opt + I. Type in 540 as the width measurement, then the height will automatically change to follow the ratio you’ve set while cropping.

540 x 540 px for 1:1

540 x 405 px for 4:3

540 x 304 px for 16:9

For the Resample value I prefer Bilinear—but you can always select the other options to see what you like best.

Click OK. Then Command + 0 and Command + - to properly view the those 540 pixels.

Now we get to the exciting part :) the sharpen settings!

2. Sharpen

First we need to have all these layers “compressed” intro a single smart object from which we can apply filters to.

Select this little button on the the bottom left corner of the Timeline panel.

Select > All Layers

Then go to Filter > Convert for Smart Filters

Just click OK when a pop-up shows up.

Now you should have this view on the Layers panel:

Now I have 3 sharpen settings to share but I’ll have download links to the Action packs at the end of this long ass tutorial so if you want to skip ahead, feel free to do so.

Sharpen v1

Go to Filter > Sharpen > Smart Sharpen…

Below are my settings. I don’t adjust anything under Shadows/Highlights.

Amount: 500

Radius: 0.4

Click OK then do another Smart Sharpen but this time with the below adjustments.

Amount: 12

Radius: 10.0

As you can see Lena’s beautiful eyes are “popping out” now with these filters applied. Click OK.

Now we need to Convert to Frame Animation. Follow the steps below.

Click on the menu icon at the top right corner of the Timeline panel, then click Convert Frames > Flatten Frames into Clips

Then Convert Frames > Convert to Frame Animation

One more click to Make Frames From Layers

Delete the first frame then Select All then Set Frame Delay to 0.05

and there you have it! Play your GIF and make sure it’s just around 42-50 frames. This is the time to select and delete.

To preview and save your GIF go to File > Export > Save for Web (Legacy)…

Below are my Export settings. Make sure to have the file size around 9.2 MB to 9.4 MB max and not exactly 10 MB.

This time I got away with 55 frames but this is because I haven’t applied lighting and color adjustments yet and not to mention the smart sharpen settings aren't to heavy so let’s take that into consideration.

Sharpen v1 preview:

Sharpen v2

Go back to this part of the tutorial and apply the v2 settings.

Smart Sharpen 1:

Amount: 500

Radius: 0.3

Smart Sharpen 2:

Amount: 20

Radius: 0.5

We’re adding a new type of Filter which is Reduce Noise (Filter > Noise > Reduce Noise...) with the below settings.

Then one last Smart Sharpen:

Amount: 500

Radius: 0.3

Your Layers panel should look like this:

Then do the Convert to Frames Animation section again and see below preview.

Sharpen v2 preview:

Sharpen v3:

Smart Sharpen 1:

Amount: 500

Radius: 0.4

Smart Sharpen 2:

Amount: 12

Radius: 10.0

Reduce Noise:

Strength: 5

Preserve Details: 50%

Reduce Color Noise: 0%

Sharpen Details: 50%

Sharpen v3 preview:

And here they are next to each other with coloring applied:

v1

v2

v3

Congratulations, you've made it to the end of the post 😂

As promised, here is the download link to all the files I used in this tutorial which include:

supercorp 2.05 Crossfire clip

3 PSD files with sharpen settings and basic coloring PSD

Actions set

As always, if you're feeling generous here's my Ko-fi link :) Thank you guys and I hope this tutorial will help you and make you love gif making.

P.S. In the next post I'll be sharing more references I found helpful especially with coloring. I just have to search and gather them all.

-Jill

[esotericsorrow]

every breath you take, i'll be watching you - ekko x reader

(ekko pov)

wc: 4k

ekko travels to another timeline. he experiences a glimpse of what could've been. maybe in another life.

warnings: angst

ekko knew he was somewhere he was not supposed to be. he was in zaun, but...he was not. this zaun was something that looked like it came out a fairytale. it was not drowned in the chaos of the undercity. it was not darkened by the gloomy fog that existed ever since he came into this world, haunting him every day. he was not in zaun. of this, he was certain.

because how else would you explain the sight in front of him? in front of his eyes stood six figures from his miserable past. benzo, vander, mylo, claggor, powder and…you. but it wasn't possible. the former four were dead. powder was no longer powder, but jinx and you..

you were his biggest mistake. his biggest regret. his biggest what if? he loathed you and loved you all the same. his enemy and his greatest love.

you looked wrong. god, you looked so right. you were smiling. he could see your pearly white teeth. he could see the crinkle of your eyes. he could hear the melodic tune of your laughter. you were happy and bright, not at all like the girl he knew, the one he fought tooth and nail to kill in his timeline. you were beautiful. you had always been, but there was a special spark in your eyes now. one he wanted to capture a picture of and etch it deep in his heart. one he hoped would never leave you.

he snapped out of his daze once he noticed your eyes on him. your eyes seemed awaiting. you had asked him something. he rubbed his neck a little sheepishly. “what were we talking about again?”

you chewed at the straw of the drink vander had poured you. ekko watched silently, remembering moments of your childhood where you still did that.

"your competition. it’s in two days.”

ekko blinked, trying to hide his confusion. “r-right. the competition.” he cleared his throat, racking his brain for what possible ‘competition’ his other self could've signed up for. he prayed you wouldn't ask for progress updates.

you blew air through the straw, watching it bubble at the drink. ekko solemnly smiled.

“you ready?”

“ready as i’ll ever be,” he said, trying to hide the tension in his voice. he had no idea what the competition was for. he’d have to play along till he finds out. “you coming to watch?” he asked, trying to hide his nervousness as he eyed you.

you plopped your head at the bar table and turned to face him with a cheeky grin. “course. i’d be a shitty girlfriend if i didn’t.”

ekko’s heart skipped a beat. he hadn't expected that—girlfriend. this other version of himself had everything. his friends, his home, you. he swallowed, shoving aside the mixture of feelings swirling in his chest. “you’re not shitty,” he mumbled. ‘you’re perfect.”

you smiled softly as you weakly punched him. ‘i was joking.”

he playfully winced at the hit, but a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “i know, i know.”

ekko reached out to grab your hand, idly running his thumb along the back of it. his eyes darted around, taking in everything about you– your smile, your every gesture, your laugh, your eyes. he hadn’t expected to feel so jealous of his doppelganger. 

you noticed his dazed state and gently gripped his hands. “you alright babe?”

ekko paused for a moment, the weight of the question hanging in the air. he wanted to tell you everything. he wanted to spill out his guts to you. he was in the wrong timeline. this was not his world. he was not your ekko. yet, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

he settled for a forced smile. “yeah. just nervous about the competition, I guess,”

you pulled yourself up and grasped at the straw, delicately placed it in your mouth. his eyes never strayed from you. “no way. you and powder have been working on it for months. you’re gonna crush it,”

there. that feeling again–that pang of jealousy mixed with guilt at the mention of ‘powder’ that spilled so casually from your lips. he had lost that chance to know her in his world. here, she was a shining memory, not the monster he knew.

ekko forced a nod, trying to hide the way his jaw tensed. ‘yeah,” he muttered. ‘i know. i just..i don't want to disappoint you, y’know?”

you smiled at him softly. “you know you could never do that.”

those words hit harder than he expected. this other version of himself had everything he’d ever wanted, everything that had been stolen from him. he swallowed, fighting back the tightness in his throat.

“yeah. i know.”

he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, letting the moment linger between them. for a brief moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to stay in this timeline, to forget about everything else and just… be.

ekko took a deep breath as you turned to continue conversation with mylo, claggor and powder, finally allowing him to truly take in what's around him. old memories flashed through his mind. powder was smiling, blissfully innocent, like the timeline itself was protecting her from becoming jinx. mylo looked less brooding, and claggor stood beside him with a smile. 

it was strange, seeing them like this. they were so young, so carefree—the opposite of how he’d seen them last. 

vander handed out drinks, a fatherly smile on his face. it was odd, seeing him alive and well, like the past hadn’t chewed him up and spat him out. benzo sat next to him, chuckling away at something. ekko doesn't know how he doesn't burst into tears every time from the sight of him.

he was still waiting for somebody to slap him out of his daydream. they were all alive. this world… it was like a sick twist of fate, dangling everything he’d lost right in front of him, then snatching it away. it was a bittersweet reminder of all the friends and family he had lost in his own timeline.

he accepted the drink with a nod of thanks, taking a sip as he half-listened to the conversation around them. ekko couldn’t help but observe how at ease everyone seemed. there was none of the tension or the edge that came from surviving on the streets of zaun. they were safe. they were happy.  

ekko found himself getting lost in your laughter, the sound melodic and full of genuine joy. it made him ache. the more he saw of this life that wasn’t his, the more he wanted it.

claggor nudged ekko to snap him out of his daydream. “oi. quit that loverboy.”

ekko snapped out of his dazed staring, a flush of embarrassment creeping onto his cheeks. he had been caught—staring at you like a lovesick puppy. claggor’s comment made the others chuckle, including you, and ekko couldn't help but admire how devastatingly beautiful you were.

“shut up,” ekko muttered, shoving claggor lightly. “i can look at my girlfriend if i want to.”

you chuckled at claggor and beamed at him and ekko felt his heart skip a beat, the happiness in your smile hitting him like a punch to the gut. he smiled back, though his was tinged with a hint of melancholy.

every moment he spent here, every smile and laugh from you, felt like a taunt. this world wasn’t meant for him. he was an intruder, someone who didn’t belong. yet, he couldn’t help but wish he could stay in this world forever, surrounded by friends and with you in his life.

the night sky appeared, and powder sneakily tweaked the speaker to play some tunes that vander deemed ‘not age appropriate’. as he tried to figure how to ‘turn that darned thing off’, powder, with the knowledge he would not be able to do so, pulled claggor and mylo to the dance floor and moved with the music, laughing and giggling at the horrid moves claggor was exhibiting and the pathetic attempt of flirting mylo was once again torturing the poor waitress with.

he watched them, his mind a swirling mess of emotions. this world… it was everything he had ever wanted, yet so far out of reach.

he took a long swig of his drink, trying to drown out the ache in his chest. if he looked at you any longer, he was going to do something he knew he’d regret—something like stealing you away from this perfect world and bringing you into his messed-up one.

soon after, you stood up and extended your hand towards him, bowing slightly, with a grin on your face, “care to indulge me, my good sir?”

he looked down at your outstretched hand, warring emotions in his eyes. part of him wanted to take it, to let himself get lost in the dance with you. the other part knew it would only make the inevitable hurt worse.

but looking into your eyes, seeing the happiness and the innocence there, he couldn’t resist the pull. 

“yeah,” he chuckled, standing up. “i’d love to.”

powder noticed movement from the corner of her eye and swiftly rushed to the speaker where vander was still fixing it or rather just yelled and hoped it listened. powder ignored vander's protests and changed the song to one of a slow dance and grinned to herself. she held up her fist expectantly, and vander watched your figure dragging ekko to the floor and smiled slightly as he formed a fist of his own and bumped it against hers. he pinched her cheek soon after.

ekko followed you to the dance floor, allowing himself to be led by your hand. as you reached the center, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against him. he was acutely aware of how right it felt to have you this close, your body pressed against his. 

he moved with the music, though it was clear he was a little clumsy compared to this body’s natural rhythm.

despite it all, ekko found himself grinning, laughing as you both stumbled through the dance together. it was far from elegant, both of you occasionally tripping over each other's feet or losing the beat. 

yet, in that moment, none of it mattered. it was the most fun he'd had in a long time. he was dancing with you, holding you close, and just for that single moment, all his worries seemed to fade away.

once the song ended, ekko suggested leaving the crowded dance floor. the noise and the dancing had become too much for him, and he needed a moment to clear his head.

he led you up to the rooftop, the cool night air a gentle breeze against your faces. the view from up here was breathtaking, the city lights below like a sea of stars against the darkened city.

you smiled as you interlocked your hand with his, recalling a fond memory. “remember ekko? here's where you confessed. here's where i became your girlfriend 5 years ago.”

he chuckled, a fond yet bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “how could I forget?” 

here was where, in this timeline, this version of himself had confessed his feelings for you. he could imagine it—the nervous energy, the hope in his heart, the pounding of his own heart in his ears. but that wasn’t him. those memories, those moments—they belonged to the ekko of this timeline. not him.

he tried to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest as he looked at you.

“it was sunny. so bright. like the sun had come out just for us.”

he closed his eyes, picturing the scene. sun rays streaming down, a soft, gentle breeze, and a clear sky overhead. a perfect day, a perfect moment. 

he could see it in his mind's eye—the other ekko, confessing his feelings to you here under the sun's warm glow. the jealousy clawed at his heart once more.

"yeah.”

you gently pulled him forward to seat yourselves at the edge of the roof. ekko watched the city lights below, making the buildings look surreal and dream-like. he leaned back, the cool night air a soft caress against his skin. 

his mind was still a tangled mess of thoughts, his feelings for you, and his guilt for being here mixing in a confusing jumble. but sitting here, this close to you, he couldn’t force himself to pull away.

you watched the city life below, dangling your feet, making it hit the wall back and forth. you don't look up as you ask, “you're not my ekko, are you?”

ekko's heart dropped, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. he closed his eyes, his breath catching in his chest. he had tried so hard to keep it a secret, to pretend like everything was fine.

but you had seen through him. you knew.

he didn't say anything for a moment, the silence between you hanging heavy. then, finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "no. i'm not.”

you don't look up from where you watched your feet dance in the air. the silence hung heavy between you both, each in your own thoughts. ekko's mind whirled, his heart aching at the fact that you had figured him out. he had wanted to keep pretending, to enjoy this one moment for just a bit longer.

he swallowed, his fingers clenching and unclenching where they rested against the rooftop. "how did you know?"

“it was raining the day you confessed to me.”

ekko's heart clenched at the words. it was a small, seemingly insignificant detail, but it was enough to give him away. he hadn't even noticed that, amidst the tangle of feelings and memories he was trying to keep straight. well, memories that weren't even his. he looked down at his hands, his fingers clenching tighter against the edge of the rooftop. he felt exposed, naked in a way that he didn’t like.

"yeah," he finally whispered. "it was.”

you gripped at the floor where your hands were resting and ekko could see the hesitation in your face as you asked the question. 

“who are you then?”

he paused, debating on what to say. he could lie, make up some convoluted story. but looking at you, seeing the curiosity in your eyes, he knew it would be a pointless lie. so, he took a deep breath, and for the first time, he confessed the truth.

"i'm ekko. just not the one you know. i'm from a different timeline. a different zaun.”

your eyes widened as realisation sunk in. “parallel realities. they're…real.”

he nodded, the reality of it still sinking in for him. parallel realities, alternate timelines. he'd known they existed in theory, but to experience it... it was something else.

“yeah," he said quietly. "a little hard to believe, right?”

for the first since you sat down and fixed your eyes down, you lifted your eyes to look at him, a soft smile gracing your face. “not really. i'm looking at it.”

he chuckled at that, a small laugh of disbelief. here you were, accepting the impossible so easily, while he was still struggling to wrap his mind around it.

he looked at you, that soft smile on your face, and his heart ached. everything about this world was so perfect, so right. and here he was, an intruder from another timeline.

“you know me in your world then?,” you asked, fiddling with your fingers.

he nodded, his eyes looking out at the city below again. he imagined his own zaun, so different from this one. the streets were darker, the sky a permanent ashen grey, and you...

he swallowed, forcing down the sudden wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

“yeah. i do. you and i… we’re…” he trailed off, unsure how to explain the tangled mess of your relationship in his timeline.

“are we not on good terms?”

he winced at that, the question making his stomach churn with guilt. In his timeline, things were complicated. 'good', was a generous way to describe it.

he took a moment to find the right words, not wanting to hurt you any more than he already had.

“it's... complicated. things between us... they’re messed up in my zaun. we’re on the worst of terms,” he mumbled. “we... we’ve spent years apart. we haven’t seen each other for a long time. and when we do, it’s always a fight.”

“oh,” you whispered, tone inexplicably sad.

his heart twisted, seeing the sadness in your expression. it hurt, knowing that he had caused it, even if indirectly.

he reached out, his hand hovering over yours. he wanted to touch you, to offer comfort, but he stopped himself at the last second. he didn’t deserve to give you comfort.

you noticed his hesitance and gently huffed as you took his hand in yours.  he sucked in a breath as you took his hands, the simple act sending a shockwave through his body.

your hands felt warm, small, and familiar against his. he closed his eyes, taking a moment to just feel you, to remember what it was like to touch you like this. he missed it so damn much.

he held your hands tightly, his fingers wrapping around yours. he didn’t want to let go.

you gripped his hand as you posed the question. “do you…like the me of that world?”

he chuckled at that, the question making his chest ache.

did he like you? like was such an inadequate word to describe what he felt. he loved you. he always had. he’d been in love with you since they were kids. even in his timeline, where things were so messed up. even there, he still loved you desperately.

“i do,” he admitted quietly. “i like you so much, it hurts."

ekko watched you bit your lip and stared down at the city sadly as you asked a question you didn't really want the answer to. 

“do i….like you back?”

the question felt like a punch to the gut. 

he knew the response he should give, the truth behind the relationship between him and you in his timeline. it was a mess. a complicated, painful mess of feelings. of love, hate, and betrayal. of trust broken and hearts shattered. 

he swallowed, his hands clenching tighter around yours. the answer was on the tip of his tongue, and he hated himself for saying it.

“no,” he whispered. “you don’t.”

the sadness in your expression, the way your eyes closed to hide the hurt, it was like a knife to his chest. he wanted nothing more than to take it back, to tell you everything was fine, that you loved him too. but he couldn’t. it was the truth, and lying wouldn’t change that. 

he looked away, his eyes back on the city lights, the brightness suddenly blurring in his vision. damn it, he should have never come here.

“ekko.”

hearing you say his name, in that soft, gentle voice, made something in him crack. he looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours. 

“yeah?” he asked, his voice quiet and strained.

you turned your gaze from the night life to his eyes as you hesitantly asked, “do you…want to kiss me?”

the question took him by surprise, jolting through him like an electric shock. he had wanted to kiss you, yes. for years, he’d desired to kiss you, to touch you, to have you closer. he’d dreamt of it, yearned for it, ached for it.

the word was out before he could stop himself.

“yes.”

so you slowly moved forward and gently placed your lips against his. time seemed to slow, the world around you fading into a muffled hum. his lips brushed against yours, featherlight at first, testing, savoring. the contact sent a shiver down your spine, warmth spreading from where you touched and radiating outward.

the kiss deepened naturally, an unhurried exploration of emotions he'd kept bottled for too long. his hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer while your fingers tangled in his locks. it was soft yet searing, a meeting of hearts that spoke in a language words could never capture.

when you finally parted, you rested your forehead against yours, breaths mingling, staring at his eyes, so rich of love and guilt. “you won't be staying, will you?”

the question broke through the fog in his mind, bringing him back to reality. the kiss had been perfect, but it was a lie, a false hope. he knew he couldn’t stay. he wasn’t supposed to be here. 

he swallowed, his eyes glued to the ground, unable to meet your gaze.

“no,” he whispered. “i won’t be staying. my zaun...it needs me.”

you smile sadly as you whispered, “i hope…the me there changes her mind.”

at that, he chuckled bitterly. you, changing your mind? the thought was laughable. he loved you, but even he knew that ship had sailed. 

but seeing the sorrow in your expression, the hope in your eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you. he couldn’t snuff out that hope, that last shred of optimism you still had.

“yeah,” he said, forcing a smile. “i hope she does too.”

you slowly pulled your hand up to caress his face, fingers moving across the soft skin of his flesh. the tenderness of your touch, the way your hand felt against his cheek, it sent a shiver through him. he closed his eyes, letting himself lean into your hand, to relish that feeling for as long as he could. It soothed the ache in his heart, that constant, aching longing for you.

“you deserve happiness ekko.”

he placed his hand over yours, gently holding it to his face. “so do you, you deserve the world,” he mumbled.

you smiled sorrowfully as you watched him. “you might not be the ekko of this world, but you... you still have the same stupid hair. same stupid eyes. same...stupid smile. same stupid heart. you're still my ekko. i hope you can you can get your happy ending there.”

his breath caught at your words. it was too much. it was everything he'd been aching for, everything he wanted to hear.

he opened his eyes, looking at you, his heart clenching. a part of him wanted to tell you everything. to spill the truth of what the two of you had become in his timeline. but he couldn’t. he couldn’t do that to you, not when you were looking at him like that.

he played with your hands, traced hearts on your palm.

“i'll try,” he said softly.

you smiled at him, and he mirrored your smile, his heart aching. he didn’t want this moment to end. he wanted to just stay here, with you, like this.

but the inevitable was closing in. the longer he stayed, the harder it would be to leave. he needed to get back to his timeline before things got worse.

he took a deep breath, steeling his resolve. “i have to go now, don’t i?” he whispered.

ekko watched as tears welled up in your eyes as you chuckled a sad laugh. “i think so.”

seeing the tears in your eyes, hearing the acceptance in your voice, it took all his self-control not to pull you closer, to hold you to him. but he forced himself to stay still, even as every part of him wanted to keep you within arm's reach.

he closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. "yeah," he whispered. "i think so too.”

you suddenly pull him into a hug, wrapping your arms around him, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. he closed his eyes, returning the embrace, hugging you tightly against him. 

he buried his face against your hair, taking a deep breath, trying to commit this moment to memory. he’d never get to hold you like this again.

you place a soft kiss on his cheek. “i won't ever forget you.”

he swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “i won’t forget you either. i couldn’t even if i wanted to.”

every instinct in him was screaming to keep holding you, to not let go, but he forced himself to release his hold. he looked at you one last time, taking in your sad smile, before steeling himself and stepping back.

he took another deep breath, his heart heavy with the weight of all the things left unsaid. “goodbye.”

“goodbye ekko. smile some more, hm?"

ekko felt a mix of emotions well up within him. he wanted to say so much, to tell you not to hope for his happiness, that he wouldn't find it. but the words stuck in his throat.

he managed a strained smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. “yeah. take care of yourself,” he said quietly.

he took one last look at you, the image of you standing there, sad but beautiful, seared into his mind.

with that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps growing fainter as he left you there, alone on the rooftop.

you turned your gaze towards the night life of the undercity and huffed a sad sigh as you turned your gazed up at the moon. 

ekko had decided to stop in his tracks and hide behind a wall so he could watch you one last time. the moon illuminated your features beautifully, and although the smile on your face was one full of melancholy, ekko could only find it in himself to admire your beauty and mirrored a similar smile of his own.

ekko watched you. he always had. that's all he can do. 

—--- epilogue 

when ekko returned to his timeline, it felt like he'd stepped into a world of shadows, a dark and menacing realm. the familiar alleys, the broken streets, it all looked so different, so wrong.

he trudged his way back to the firelights headquarters, his mind still focused on the you he left behind in the other timeline. the feeling of holding you, having you so close, it was like a fresh wound, reopening the aching loneliness within him.

he stood for a moment, to stare at the moon, to remember the image of you staring at the sky mere moments ago when he caught a flash of something from the corner of his eyes. ekko watched you fall to your death.

ekko watched you. he always had. that's all he can do.

[httpknjoon]

an awful good girl | myg

plot | that time in december of their tour where popstar!yn sang while sitting on santa's lap. (but who's santa anyway?)

w.c | 4K+

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | fluff, enemies to lovers

note | supposed to be another song but loved this one more. also, a little manhandling somewhere there... ps. i was listening to earth kitt's version of this song before switching. hence why some parts made it here.

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

DAY 64 of Love Is.. On Tour

For your first December concert in Love Is... On Tour, you prepare a themed costume and performances for your fans. But a surprise song became the highlight tonight.

@.JUN0BABY: can someone tell me what's going on tonight??!?

@.t4asteme: WTF WDYM YN GAVE A LAP DANCE ON STAGE TONIGHT

--@.THEB0YISDIVIN3: she just sat on santa's lap

@.pov.yn: siri play that should be me by justin bieber

@.3435outro: as someone who's bi, idk if i'm jealous of yoongi or yn

@.FredInTheDrums: lol santa won tonight [insert picture from the stage]

@.0nlyangelz: her bassist is so hot i can't blame her 🥵

@.loveisviscious: lol how can they do shit like this

--@.BEDCHEMENTHUSIAST: ikr?! they are prolly really good friends

---@.YNFan37489265: we <3 that yn-yoongi friendship

But how did the concert even led to these tweets?

"Okay, band, gather in."

Before the band could go on their ride back to the hotel, Paul, the tour's wardrobe supervisor, called them to the wardrobe department's area. Exhausted from just performing, Yoongi slumped on the blue couch next to Noah, who was probably the only one still having the energy from the rest of the band.

"What's up?" Akio, the band's keyboardist, asked since she had been craving to go back to her bed.

Paul clapped his hands, "Okay, so you know that days from now is December. And we only have four concert dates left before the holiday break, right?"

The band members nod in answer.

"Good. So, each concert date will have different Christmas themes for these last dates. The first one will be Santa's workshop. And I just need you to pick your characters through the fishbowl method again." Paul explained, reaching for a cup filled with folded papers.

Having themed events is not really new with the band. During Halloween week, you did the same thing. You had two concerts then and decided to turn them into fun costume parties for your staff and fans. Yoongi, who was never lucky with the fishbowl method, got to be the Danny Zuko to your dreamy Sandy Olsson. They were only a week old on the tour at that time and the couple-costume made some rumors that eventually died down after you told the backstory during the same concert.

"Do you want to look at your characters or do you want it to be a surprise?" Paul asked.

Noah and Fred answered at the same time, "Surprise! Make it a surprise."

Both Yoongi and Akio just let them. Yoongi does not really care, while Akio is just dozed off on his shoulder. He tapped her knee to wake her up when Paul began making them pick a paper. After that, they handed back their secret characters to him one by one while he listed them down in his mini notepad.

"Okay, you are now free to go. You'll see your characters in the next performance. I already have your measurements anyway." Paul concluded, knowing how much the band had been dreading to rest.

The band got up and walked out of the room. On their way to their van outside, Fred and Noah were having fun teasing the youngest, Akio, like her little brothers. She groaned at their energy to wake her up. Yoongi walked behind them, busy on his phone, reading some text messages he missed during the concert. Most of them were from his friends and colleagues inviting him to work with them. But one message stopped Yoongi for a second.

From (555) 436-*22*

Hello, Yoongi. S, here. New number. Need to talk to you about something. Please call as soon as you see this.

It was a new number on his phone. But he can already recognize who sent it. Suddenly, his heartbeats were louder than his bandmates' laughs while he stared at the message in front of him. His jaw tightened when he read the text message once again. What does she want now?

"Hey, guys!"

All of a sudden, he hears your voice, greeting the band. He looked up, pushing his phone back to his pockets. You are now back in your oversized grey sweatshirt, after wearing your sparkly outfits all night.

"Did Paul already tell you about the costumes?" you asked, striking a small conversation with them.

You, yourself, are on your way to Paul to talk about your wardrobe for December performances. Costumes and themed parties are always your thing, so you try to do them at every chance you get. Cal stood next to you, busy on her phone for your schedule.

"Yeah, but we just picked some random paper. Then, asked Paul to just surprise us with our characters." Fred replies.

"Oh, that's exciting." you smiled.

You began talking about your plans for the next Christmas themes, making Noah excited as he is another big enthusiast of the holidays. Yoongi watched quietly on the sidelines. You two barely had any interaction since you cried on stage while singing POV, which was three days ago. It was too peaceful between the two of you, no arguments at all. On stage, you have interacted more with Akio or Noah. Not like he minds at all! It's just that it feels like you are avoiding him. You laughed around with everyone in the band during the show and rehearsals except him. He remembered you were being chatty with him before the rehearsals for POV days ago.

"And I got this new notebook, so like I took it as a sign to write new songs! I already have Christmas-themed ones, just need some help with producing them so I can release them before we take a break," you shared with the band, breaking Yoongi's thoughts.

The notebook! You got them. That's good to know. Yoongi did not really know if you got that souvenir notebook he left on your door as a peace offering gift since you haven't really said anything about it. He felt bad making you cry, although that was not his goal, and he didn't know what to get you since his options were limited at the time. He wanted to apologize and talk to you personally but you were always busy and he didn't know how, where, and when can he approach you.

"I know a guy for that!" Fred exclaimed, turning around. "Yoongi, you can help with YN with that, right?"

For the first time in a couple of days, you looked directly at him. It was like there was a switch. Your smile dropped and you blankly stared at him.

Caught in surprise, Yoongi looked away, "Yeah... Yeah, sure. I can help if she wants me to."

Although they won't speak about it, everyone, along with Cal and the other band members, can feel that there is some weird tension between you and Yoongi these last couple of days. There was no petty argument even though there are times that it can potentially start. Like when Yoongi accidentally knocked over your water bottle, you didn't say anything, which is unusual. Because normally, you would make a big deal out of it and Yoongi would fight back, making a bigger deal with it. But nothing, nada. You two were just robots around each other.

"It's fine, I still have other holiday songs that I can cover later these days." you smiled back to his friends. "Anyway, I won't hold you guys longer. I know that you want to rest already— Aren't we all?"

His friends laughed. You continued, "But thank you, guys. I had the best show tonight. I think the fans enjoyed Bed Chem the most."

Oh, yeah. That performance earlier where you invited Noah for the outro part of that song. It was wilder than what you did with Yoongi since behind the curtains, your silhouettes were shown taking each other clothes before getting into a suggestive pose, which you and Noah have fun doing since it was nothing but for entertainment. You are closest with him in the band since he was the only one who stayed from your past band. Plus, he is gay and everyone knows it.

Without any reason in mind, Yoongi's face felt so hot watching the scene, he had to look away.

Two days passed by quickly, you and the entire crew are now in another city. You left the hotel earlier than usual since you were excited to try on the costumes Paul made.

"Oh my god. This is so cute!" you exclaimed, checking yourself out in front of the mirror.

It was a red mini dress with a heart cutout in the chest area. Its upper and lower hems are lined with white fur. Paul even sewed silver gemstones everywhere, still in the theme of your sparkly aesthetic. You also have the matching gloves that equally looked perfect.

"I'll just show you the other ones every rehearsal." your wardrobe supervisor said. "Just to keep you coming here excited."

"I am always excited coming here to see your creations," you told him, twirling in front of the mirror. "How's the band's costumes?"

Paul pulled a rack of costumes that were made for your live band. There are two sets of costumes for the elves, a brown onesie and headband for Rudolph, and a red sparkly suit, matching yours, for Santa Claus. The faux white beard was ditched as it might disturb the member's performance.

"So, who's my Santa for tonight?" you smiled.

The surprise performance you planned for later needs a Santa. So, other than your costume, you were also excited to know who got the special role. You don't really mind who it is since you get along with almost everyone—

"Yoongi."

2:37 PM

You looked at the time on the upper right of your phone screen. The call time was exactly thirty-seven minutes ago. Initially, the rehearsals for the surprise performance will be practiced first since it is a new addition to the setlist. But Yoongi said he'll be late for a few minutes. So, they moved to doing a soundcheck for other songs. But it has been five songs without her bass guitarist. Where is Yoongi? He has never been this late before. You walked up to Cal, who was talking with Art.

"Should we just change San-"

"Sorry, I'm late."

As if on cue, Yoongi walked on the stage with his guitar. He looked different, you thought. Maybe because it was your first time seeing his flowy, black hair in a man bun, which you won't admit looks good on him. You rolled your eyes at thinking that. Yoongi went straight to his usual spot in the band. He was setting up his guitar when you walked up to him.

"You're almost an hour late," you told him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I know, that's why I said sorry," he replied nonchalantly, looking down at his guitar. "I told Art that I am going to be late-"

For the thousandth time, he is avoiding looking at you again. You remembered him looking away nights ago when Fred asked Yoongi if he could help you produce your self-written songs. He was also doing the same thing for like two weeks now.

"Why can't you look at me?!"

Like a volcano that erupted unexpectedly, you cut him off. Everyone watched in silence at you and Yoongi. Your brows were furrowed as you stared at him. But instead of glaring back at you, Yoongi just replied, unbothered.

"As if you weren't avoiding me these past few days?"

You blinked, "Uh... I'm not."

Thank God liars don't really get their pants on fire when they lie in real life, because you would end up burning your legs if they do.

"Yoongi, YN, please follow me. Now." Art suddenly spoke.

He's mad,. You rarely see the older guy look serious. You looked at Cal, who simply tilted her head to Art, raising an eyebrow like she was telling you to follow him. You walked when Yoongi walked past you to where Art was going.

No one spoke as you two walked behind Art. But both you and Yoongi can feel the atmosphere feeling like you two are second graders who are about to get a lecture from your teacher. Maybe get sent to detention. Art stopped in one of the vacant dressing rooms at the arena. He opened the door for you two. he did not say anything but you and Yoongi took it as a sign that he wants you to go in first.

"Please occupy the couch— the same couch." he had to correct himself when you and Yoongi sat on a different sofa that was on each wall of the room. He sighed, kids.

Following what Art said, you and your least favorite band member sat on opposite ends of the couch. An obvious three-feet distance is between you two. Your tour manager reached for a monoblock chair, sitting before you.

"I have had enough of this whole eye contact thing, okay? We have to solve this here and now. It's wasting everyone's time." Art spoke sternly like he was a dad for both you and Yoongi. "Who can tell me what's the problem?"

"He won't give me any eye contact when he talks to me," you said, trying not to sound too bratty or childish.

Yoongi crossed his arms, "Two weeks ago, she was telling me not to look at her and now, she's asking why I'm not looking. I'm just doing what she wants me to do."

Art nods, then looks at you.

"He was staring too hard that day, it was uncomfortable. And I didn't mean for him not to look at me at normal conversations on the daily." you defended.

"We never had any normal conversations." your bassist mumbled lowly, making you roll your eyes.

Art intervened before another fight ensued, "So, what do you want now, YN?"

"I... I just want him to look at me when we're talking..." your volume gets lower when you realise how that statement felt a little needy.

It was like you heard Yoongi put on a smug smirk (if that was even possible), and you turned your head to him just to confirm that yes, he had that stupid smirk on his lips.

"We never see each other eye to eye. Why are you so bothered about it?" he asked.

Before you could pause and ask yourself the same question, you replied, "Uhm, eye contact is part of having a proper human conversation. I mean, it just feels like I am being ignored when I can't see the eyes of the person I'm talking with."

What the hell even is that answer? You mentally slapped your forehead.

"Yeah, you would know something about ignoring someone, right?" Yoongi scoffed.

You looked at Yoongi, who is now looking back at you. Art is starting to feel that this is something deeper than the eye contact thing.

"Should I leave you two alone?" he asked, more careful this time.

"Yes."

Yoongi was the first to answer, being firm with it. You were taken aback for a second by how quick he was but nodded when Art turned to you to get your answer.

"Fine, I'll give you five minutes. Then, everything should be good and we'll go back to rehearsals." Art stood up.

Yoongi waited for him to close the door before turning to you. He wasted no time.

"I'm sorry."

Confused, you squinted, "For... what?"

That was not what you expected you hear from him when he agreed to talk with you alone here. You thought he would just keep on implying that you were the issue and confusing.

Yoongi sighed, "I'm sorry for saying what I said when we were in rehearsals for POV. It was not my intention to make you cry while performing it."

"Oh..." you gulped. That was not his fault. "It's a decision I made, I just got carried away, that's all."

You know that there is something more to that, but you hate to sit and drown yourself alone with your feelings. So, you won't do that today.

"Yeah, I know. But I feel like I pushed you into it. That's why you were ignoring me. Right?" Yoongi added. "I know that everything is probably still—"

"You know what? It's fine, it's okay. I appreciate your apology. But really, it's not fully on you. Let's just move forward from this." you cut him off before he can say more things.

He looked at you for a moment, like he was studying you. You hate it. That is what you mean when you say you don't like him looking at you. It was like he could see right through your lies. Like some magician.

"Please stop staring," you whispered, feeling a little small. "Don't stare like you are reading me like a book."

His stare softened when you said that. Nodding, he looks away.

You quickly spoke, "But you can look at me! Just... don't stare too hard. I'm not that kind of diva."

He chuckled, "Okay."

"Okay." you sighed. There are things that are still not discussed but you can probably talk about it next time or whatever. As you felt the awkward silence filling in the room, you asked. "Are we back to normal?"

"Yeah."

By normal, it means professional colleagues who probably still have a very tiny animosity due to their differences. Because normal, to you and Yoongi, is not being friends. You are not friends, just two people who need each other for your jobs. But now, you are about to sit on your bass guitarist's lap for a performance later.

"Are you comfortable with this?" you asked him after letting him know that he would be involved as Santa tonight.

"You're just gonna sit on my lap?" he asked with a blank expression.

"Yeah," you replied shortly.

It was supposed to be something freakier than that but considering the unexpected changes earlier in your tour, you changed whatever that is into a simple sit on Santa's lap.

"Okay."

Everyone can feel the tension lifting from you and Yoongi the moment you two returned with Art. You were communicating at each other better and they could see it especially when you began rehearsing for Santa Baby.

The dancers and other band members were teasing and laughing when you two began with your bit on Santa's throne. Yoongi was quiet, but smiling at some parts. You, on the other hand, were playing along, loving the energy with your crew. You were back in your playful persona while dancing around Santa, teasing him, just to make others entertained.

You were enjoying the song, Yoongi understands. But you cannot stop unconsciously wiggling on his open lap and you were getting dangerously close to him, while he is wearing his grey sweatpants. He just have to do something.

"Santa baby— oh."

You gasped at Yoongi's sudden pull down on your waist, making you stay in the same spot on his lap. You looked at him, instantly recognizing the slight tint of blush on his cheeks.

"Just stay here," he whispered with his voice lower than usual.

"Oh, okay... sorry." you pressed your lips together before looking away to smile at something else.

"Just don't move around too much." he added before removing his hold on your.

You nodded, "Noted."

"Good." He whispered under his breath.

"Of course, we won't let this night end without a surprise gift for you!"

The fans screamed as you announced that. You have been performing for almost an hour now. four outfit changes later, you are now in a sparkly, red cloak with faux fur on its hem, hiding your themed outfit underneath. Your surprise holiday performance is conveniently placed in the final performance of the night.

"Hit it!"

As a signal, you posed, raising your index finger and putting your candy cane before you. The local barbershop quartet that you hired for your four December shows began singing.

"Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom..."

Once the instrumental of the classic, sultry Christmas song began, Yoongi watched you turn around, instantly meeting his eyes. Unlike before, the director are now aware of your actions since you promised to follow what was rehearsed.

"Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom…"

In every ba-boom, you step closer to Yoongi with your candy cane. The corners of your lips are curved up slightly. Your eyes say nothing but mischief that Yoongi can only hope that you will not do anything that can make him trend online. Like when you did your favorite freaky position before him.

"Santa, baby. Slip a Sable under the tree for me..."

The fans cheered when your soft voice began singing. You are an angel with the spotlight serving as a bright halo behind you, Yoongi thought. Whenever you sing to him during these live shows, Yoongi sometimes finds himself getting transported to another space. Maybe it's because of the light... the songs... the atmosphere... or the way you nod your head in every word you sing like you mean it. It's hypnotizing.

"I've been an awful good girl..."

By that line, you are already next to him, leaning your back to his side like you are in distress. You continued singing next to him, while a famous Santa Claus throne was being put up on the farther heart-shaped centerstage.

"Santa, baby, a '54 convertible too, light blue. I'll wait up for you, dear..."

Yoongi bobbed his head along with you while playing his guitar, seemingly enjoying the song.

"Think of all the fun I've missed, Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed..."

You began walking around the band and all over the stage, singing to your fans who joyfully sang along with you.

"Next year, I could be just as good. If you check off my Christmas list..."

You took the time to sing and bond with them, giggling at the funny signs they brought with them.

"Santa, honey, So hurry down the chimney tonight..."

While moving to the song's fourth verse, you walked back to Yoongi. The fans screamed when you playfully teased him with your candy cane, before pulling yourself closer to him. You clung to his arm and you two walked down to the center stage.

"Come and trim my Christmas tree, With some decorations bought at Tiffany's..."

While singing, you pushed Yoongi to sit on the throne. He acted like he would stand up but you pushed him again, placing your candy cane on his lap. Finally, you dramatically remove your cloak, revealing your shimmering your mini-dress.

"I really do believe in you, Let's see if you believe in me..."

You danced around the throne, leaning over it before finding your way back to Santa. Yoongi mentally prepares himself, and even adjusts his pants.

"Santa, baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring..."

As soon as you found your place on his lap, your audience went crazy. You continued singing, facing Yoongi, your Santa for tonight. You pointed to your empty ring finger. Yoongi was just vibing along to your singing, swaying his head along.

"Santa, baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight..."

But you were so into the song that you forgot what Yoongi told you earlier. You kept wiggling on his lap once again, singing along with your fans. Screams erupted when Yoongi held your waist. You felt his hand firmly holding you down, making sure that you would sit still. Although taken aback for a second, you smiled and felt blood rushing through your cheeks.

"Waiting... Hurry, tonight... Hurry down the chimney tonight."

When you sang those last lines, you acted like whispering it close to Yoongi's ear. leaning a little closer to him. Yoongi simply raised an eyebrow, an action enough to get loud reactions.

The lights slowly dimmed down with you still sitting on his lap. Fans cheered for the last time, knowing that it was the last song. But suddenly, a familiar tune plays in the whole arena.

"You didn't think that was all, right?"

note | i received your requests and i'm working on it. but please know that holiday-themed drabbles are currently prioritised 🥹 tysm for the love

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[majestyeverlasting]

Hello! I saw your requests were open and that you wrote for Eddie, so I had to 😋😞

I wanted to ask if I could request an Eddie x reader where let’s say reader isn’t the best withemotions and communication kinda sucks cause they grew up without a good example for love, maybe their parents weren’t good for one another/very bad marriage. due to this readers view of love can be like very tainted, or that love is kinda toxic in a way. So, they’re kinda self sabotaging/think Eddie deserves better cause they struggle with communication, and it boils down to a fight one day where Eddie is hurt they won’t let him in, and reader is kinda guilty and cries to him for the first time ever and just lets him know they love him a lot, more than anything, but don’t know how to show or say it.

Like they believe he’ll leave them, but he promises he won’t/loves them for them, and wants to show them love isn’t like how their parents were!

If you take this, thank u so so much but g you don’t it is a-okay!

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 

pairing eddie munson x female reader [friends → lovers]  summary haunted by the version of love you saw growing up, you return to Hawkins and find yourself entangled in the most honest connection you’ve ever known [fluff, angst, slow burn, wc 4k]. a/n thanks for your patience, anon! really enjoyed writing this one.

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Each step you take results in a thick slosh that joins the patter of rainfall and rustle of the trees. The neon red open sign of the Quick Mart glows up ahead like a beacon amid the dreary evening. Of the two vehicles parked at the gas pumps, you can’t help but feel you’ve seen the van before. 

The bells above the doors jingle as you step inside. The air is cool against your wet skin as you wipe your Keds on the tattered black entrance rug. Rather than venturing deeper into the store, you stay near the front window and pray the storm clouds have already planned their exit. There was nothing particularly exciting waiting for you at home, but sometimes even your mother’s company was better than being alone. 

Time was supposed to be the great healer of all, but now that you’re back home from college, you realize not much has changed within Hawkins at all. It was as if the town was forever tethered to this singular state of existence. 

“Oh, no,” a lighthearted voice laments. “Rain got you good, huh?” 

You turn around, and there stands Eddie Munson and his warm smile at the checkout counter. His hair is pulled back out of his face, and a few rain droplets wet his gray t-shirt. He starts your way after the clerk hands him his bag. It’d been his van you recognized outside. He’s one of Steve’s friends.

“Maybe just a little bit,” you joke as he stops a couple feet away.  

Eddie’s gaze strikes a balance between sympathetic and amused. Even if it teetered toward the latter, you doubt you’d be offended. There seemed to be an eternal glimmer of warmth in his eyes. 

“Where ya comin’ from?” 

“The library,” you say. “Should’ve watched the news this morning.” You pull your shirt away from yourself so it doesn’t cling to your frame. 

Eddie’s gaze flits down to your body, more observant than anything. Then he meets your eyes again as if it’d been wrong to look. 

He clears his throat. “You’re Steve’s neighbor.” 

“I am.” 

“I remember seeing you around,” he says. “Guess our paths just never crossed.” 

You never realized how tall he was up close. Or how good he smells. You suddenly feel more aware of yourself.

“I can give you a ride home if you want,” he says. 

You shake your head before any words leave your mouth. “It should be letting up soon. Usually doesn’t last when it pours like this.” 

“You sure?” He watches the way you bite your lower lip in consideration. “C’mon.” 

Eddie starts towards the door, and the air returns to his lungs when you follow. 

•••

The inside of his van smells like pine, smoke, and earth. For a few seconds, you refrain from relaxing too deeply into the seat, but you eventually give in. The discomfort from being wet doesn’t last long. You don’t notice the tool bag at your feet until Eddie hisses apologetically. 

“Lemme get this outta your way,” he says. 

He reaches down, but you beat him to it. A surprised grunt escapes you at the weight, and he chuckles as he takes it from you and slings it to the back like it's light as a feather, bicep flexing. While he’s turned around, he grabs something else you can’t see at first. A green towel is soon placed in your lap. 

You blink down at it in pleasant surprise. 

“It’s clean,” he promises. 

“I wasn’t worried,” you assure, offering a small smile. You start wiping the moisture from your face and arms. “Thanks.” 

As Eddie pulls out the lot, the rubber of the windshield wipers squeak faintly as they move. You find yourself entranced by how they smear the raindrops. Eddie shoots a couple of brief glances your way. There’s an intimacy to the moment that he can’t help but be aware of. 

“Am I takin’ you home or someplace else?” 

The question shouldn’t catch you off guard, but it does. “Home, please.” That word feels heavier than it should. “I’m right across from Steve.” You forget he already knows. 

Hawkins is as slow and sleepy as ever as you two cruise down the empty streets. Eddie drives with one hand on the wheel, and your attention drifts from his arm to the bend of his knuckles. The weight of your gaze makes him peek over at you. You shift just slightly enough to confirm that you’d been staring, and he smiles, a subtle upturn of his lips as he refocuses on the road. 

For someone described as kinetic energy personified, Eddie knew how to settle into a silence. How to take what it gave him without trying to refashion it. It almost scares you how there’s such a sense of ease here by his side, traveling in the rain. You’d never given any thought to what it might be like, but you’d never have guessed this. He feels safe. 

“I never realized you had so many tattoos,” you murmur, breaking the stillness. 

He glances down at his arm. “Think you’ve been staring long enough to pick a favorite?” When your brows lift in surprise, he huffs a laugh that’s equally as worried as it is shy. “I’m messin’ with you.” 

A spark of boldness drives you to touch the one just above his elbow. It’s one of the softer tattoos he has, an intricate human-like creature with pretty wings. “Is this a fairy?” 

“When I was younger, my mom had this really nice garden,” he starts. “She always claimed it was filled with ‘em, and I believed her.” 

“Do you still believe in them?” You’re partly teasing.  

“I believe in a lot more than fairies these days.” It grows quiet, and he bites his lower lip. “She passed when I was eleven.” 

That lands harder than you’re prepared for. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Thanks.” 

Back then, it had taken a few years for Eddie to accept people’s sympathy instead of brushing it off. The last thing he’d wanted was pity from people who’d move on by the next day. More often than not, he felt like that same seven-year-old boy watering flowers with her on summer afternoons. As long as he could stay in tune with that version of himself, he’d have his mom forever. 

•••

When Eddie pulls into the driveway of your house, the lights in the foyer turn on. A second later, your mother’s head peaks through the curtains and disappears just as fast. Eddie chuckles, but his smile fades when he realizes the heavy look on your face. You hadn’t found her vigilance endearing. It takes a second for you to register that he’d laughed, and by the time you force a smile, it’s too late for him to believe it. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, leaning in a bit. 

It’s too soon to tell him that she holds you to a high set of standards—especially now that you’ve graduated and are expected to either land a job or find an affluent husband who can provide. Too soon to admit that you can’t remember all the times she said she was proud. Her expectations overshadowed them all, and things worsened after the divorce, when your father moved out. Some days it was easier to love your parents than others. 

“It’s complicated.” 

Eddie didn’t know you as well as he did Steve, but perhaps, you and Steve were one and the same. Always wanting to be everywhere but the one place that was supposed to be a safe haven. Eddie used to be ashamed of Forest Hills and his uncle Wayne’s cramped trailer. But every day he came home, he knew he could leave the weight of the world at the door and not have to worry about picking up a new set of troubles inside. 

Things were never as they seemed from the outside looking in.  

Eddie clears his throat. “I’m sorry.” 

“Me too,” you sigh. “Thanks for the ride.” 

He means to say you’re welcome, but you hop out of his van and jog to the front door. Your mom is there to welcome you inside to seek solace from the rain. She waves at Eddie as he backs out of the driveway, and he politely waves back. 

All he can think about is that he wishes he’d met you a whole lot sooner. 

•••

Smoke flows into the air as Steve exhales beside you. He stares at a distant point down the street before taking another relaxed drag. Ashes pepper to the ground when he lowers the cigarette from between his lips and flicks it with his index finger. The sky is a beautiful ombre as a result of the setting sun. The two of you had come outside to sit on his curb and watch the day wind to its end.

“So are you two, like…” Steve trails off as he meets your gaze. It’d been three months since Eddie drove you home. 

“Please don’t.” You drop your face into your hands. He elbows you gently, and you return the gesture ten times harder. 

“Ouch!” 

“That did not hurt,” you say. 

“Did too,” he counters, chuckling as he massages his arm. 

A hush falls between you, and you shake your head when Steve offers you the cigarette. In the near distance, the laughter of children and the rhythmic thump of a basketball drifts into the air. Thanks to Steve’s question, all you can hear now is the way Eddie says your name, always a touch lighter than the rest of his words. You can hear his laugh. You can see his wild curls and kind, dark eyes. 

Sighing, you look at the house across the street with its long driveway and crisp, manicured lawn. The epitome of the small-town American dream. After years of living within its walls, you could confidently say it felt like a home on some days, but never all the time. Just like all the smiles and laughter you shared with your parents when they were married, they were real on some days, but never all the time. 

They lived together until you left for college, but even then, it always felt like they were miles apart. They’d met young, married young, had you young. Somewhere along the line, they stopped being brave enough to show up as their full selves. New hopes and desires went unvoiced and became grounds for resentment to grow. In their minds, it was easier to let those weeds sprout until the inevitable day the growth took over entirely. 

Part of you feared it was contagious. 

“I wasn’t trying to pry.” Steve finally says. “It’s just that Eddie said something earlier that…” he realizes he shouldn’t divulge, not when he wasn’t here to clarify or defend himself. 

“That what?” 

Steve ignores your question. “And you’re together all the time.” 

Somehow, those words make you feel caught. You hold Steve’s gaze. He’d grown into his pouty lips and round eyes, but you can still see the freckle-faced kid who would always ring the doorbell and ask you to come out and play until you eventually started joining on your own. Life always seemed to be sweeter outside, and it turns out the way he felt wasn’t far off. 

“We’re together all the time too,” you note. 

“Not like that.”

“Like what?” 

Steve shakes his head as he laughs. “You’re the most impossible person on planet Earth.” You can hear the affection in his voice. 

“Good,” you concede, then nudge him again, this time much softer. “Loser.” 

“Weirdo.” 

“Dork,” you shoot back. 

But more than that, he was right to suspect that something had blossomed between you and Eddie. It was a matter of when, not if, you acknowledged it out loud.  

•••

A metal clang erupts the second you climb out of your car. No sooner does a beautiful gray pitbull trot up to you with a wagging tail. Mike’s Tire & Auto Shop never has felt like a real place, but the lot was filled with cars every day, and you seldom heard any complaints. Perhaps that was by virtue of being one of the only service shops in Hawkins. That never stopped your folks from traveling the extra six miles to get their vehicles serviced at a more sophisticated place just outside town. 

All the garage doors are open, and various cars are hoisted on the lifts. A couple of mechanics tinker around, but none of them have the hair you’re looking for. With a deep breath, you start towards the garage, a Tupperware container in hand. The mystery pitbull happily follows along. Once you’re inside, you’re mindful not to step on any random car parts or get in anybody's way. A few of the workers appear to want to say something, but refrain. 

“Gloria Anne!” A sharp whistle follows the exasperated exclamation, and the dog promptly leaves your side to follow the sound. 

You turn around in time to see her heel with dutiful precision beside an older, bearded man dressed in a button-down. He wipes his face with a rag as he approaches you. 

“I’m so sorry about that. She ain’t usually like this.” Before you have the chance to say it’s okay, he continues, “It’s these goddamn pregnancy hormones. Yesterday marked four goddamn weeks. M’gonna be a grandpappy.” 

Your brows raise in surprise. “Oh…wow. Congratulations,” you say. “I wasn’t sure whether or not to pet her. Didn’t want to get her riled up or anything. 

The man shakes his head. “She’s a sweetheart. Only thing riled up around here is my blood pressure.” 

Then he curses under his breath. “Where are my manners—I’m Mike. Think I might’ve seen you ‘round town before.” He squints at you as if it’ll help jog his memory. “Haven’t been back to work here since I blew my back out this past winter.” 

Eddie comes out of the break room to the sight of you talking to Mike. Alaric, one of the other mechanics, motions to you as if to say what’s this chick doing back here. Eddie waves him off. Over the past few months, he’d gotten used to all the ways you managed to pop up in his life. 

“We usually ask that all customers enter through the reception area for their own safety,” Mike says.

“I was actually looking for someone,” you say. “Eddie Munson?” 

“That knucklehead over there?” He affectionately points to Eddie, and your head whips that way. 

There he is with his coveralls tied around his waist and his hair in a bun, tattoos on display. A boyish smile curls at his lips upon locking eyes with you. 

Eddie joins you on one of the benches in front of the shop. He seems grateful for the excuse to step away, sinking back into the wood and letting his legs fall open so his knee touches yours. 

 “I baked these last night.” You crack the Tupperware open, and he smiles at the chocolate chip cookies inside. “I realized I’ve never visited you at work, so I figured I’d find a reason to stop by. Thought you could maybe share with the guys.” 

“Or eat them all myself,” he jokes, warmth stirring in his chest. “You’re not trying to butter me up for something, are you? You know I’ve got an awful sweet tooth.” He knocks his knee against yours. 

A laugh escapes you, and Eddie bites his lip to keep from grinning wider like an idiot. 

“What would I be buttering you up for?”  

As he shrugs, there’s something about the weighted way he studies you. It’s like he’s trying to figure you out all over again. You’re pretty in the afternoon sunlight. Butterflies flutter in your stomach. 

He gets a soft look about him. “Guess you’re just thoughtful like that, huh?”

You shrug like it’s not a big deal. As if you hadn’t remembered the comment he made about chocolate chip cookies the other week. Or as if you hadn’t chosen to wear one of your favorite denim skirts. 

“My mom’s visiting her sister in Chicago, so they wouldn’t have gotten eaten at my place,” you say, a bit shy and warm from the way he’s looking at you. “And I already gave Steve a couple.” 

“I’m on break for another five minutes,” he says. “I say we take first dibs.” His eyes are hopeful. 

He hums around the first bite he takes, and you somehow feel like the center of the world. He’d go on to make you feel that way every time you were near. 

════ • ════

The first day of Summer ‘89 is marked by rain. A steady fall that continues well into the evening. Eddie can’t see it, but he can hear it all around, against the windows and the roof. It’s your touch he’s focused on as he sits on the floor between your legs, eyes slipped closed. Your fingers are gentle as they comb through the long strands of his hair and detangle where needed. Every so often, you massage his scalp to hear him make that pleased sound in the back of his throat. 

His head eventually falls slack against the inside of your thigh. You don’t stop. Not until light begins to pour into the otherwise dim living room. Eddie opens his eyes at the disappearance of your touch. He suddenly remembers where he is. Across the room, the TV drones a rerun of I Dream of Jeannie. 

“I think the sun’s coming out,” you say softly. 

“Looks like it,” he says, rubbing his eyes. 

“Let’s go see.” 

He groggily pushes to his feet and pads to the front window with you close behind. Sure enough, the sun has broken through the storm clouds above. It looks like heaven has opened. You admire the view through the raindrop-stained window. What you’re not expecting is for him to open the front door. Warm air flows into his trailer along with the scent of wet earth. The sound of the rain filters in much crisper. 

For a moment, the two of you stand in the doorway and soak everything in. You don’t realize you’re leaning into him until he rests a hand on your lower back. As much as you want to stay by his side and enjoy the comfort of his proximity, you retreat back into the trailer with a lump in your throat. What doesn’t register is the tight sigh Eddie releases as he remains in the doorway a few seconds longer.

By the time he returns to the living room, you’re seated stiffly on the couch. Eddie doesn’t join you or move from his place. He stares at the carpet for a few beats, then meets your gaze. That usual sparkle in his eyes has dulled. You wish the couch would consume you whole.

“What are we doing?” Eddie’s voice is so small that you’re almost able to convince yourself you don’t hear the question. 

You swallow in place of an answer. 

“I really like you,” he admits. 

“I like you too.” 

He huffs a humorless laugh as he gives you a helpless look. “You know what I mean.” 

That’s what scared you the most, knowing. The possession of knowledge isn’t passive. It demands one to be in a state of action or consideration. Seldom did knowledge yield a steady, unchanging state of being. To know is to feel and react. And the way you feel about Eddie is more than just in your head. It’s a truth that runs through your bones. 

“I just need to know whether or not I’m wasting my time thinking there’s something else here,” he says. 

Amid all the emotions stirring within you, the easiest and cheapest one is offense. 

“So I’m just a waste of time?” 

The feeling that flares in his chest is wild and unfamiliar, hurt and disbelieving at the same time. 

“No, I actually enjoy spending time with you—if you can believe that.” The sarcasm he tacks on is shaky around the edges. “You laugh at my jokes and make me feel good, but you’re also just a really awesome person.” 

“Eddie…” 

“You can’t keep leaning in only to pull away,” he stresses. “It’s not fair to either of us.”

Summer hadn’t reached its end, but you never knew that meeting him back on that fateful day last year would’ve led to having some of the best times of your life. From days at the pool, to walks at Lover’s Lake, to spending the night at his place, to Sunday cruises around town. Eddie was everything you never knew you needed.  

Tears sting in your eyes. 

“I want more.” He motions between the two of you. “And every time you laugh at my jokes, or trace my tattoos, or fall asleep in my van, I’m left wondering if you feel the same way.” His words grow quieter on the tail end like he’s scared you’ll deny ever being on the same page. 

You don’t realize you’re crying until the couch cushions dip as he joins you. All you can do is shake your head because you don’t know where to begin. Eddie hesitates for a fraction of a second before he reaches out to take your hand. That’s all the permission you need to sink into him. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, and this time, the last thing on your mind is creating distance. You tuck your face into his neck like it’s the safest place in the world. 

Eddie gives you a squeeze, but he still feels out of his depth at the sight of your tears. One thing he knows for sure is that he wants to make them go away. 

“You deserve better,” you manage. 

With a gentle lift of his shoulder, he attempts to make you sit up and look into his eyes. But you double down because you’re not sure you’ll be able to stop crying if you do. 

“You are the better,” he finally says. 

Those words give you enough courage to look at him. You feel bare, but the only thing that resides in his eyes is a palpable attentiveness. 

“I’m not good at this. You don’t wanna be with me,” you insist. “You’ll look up one day and realize you made a mistake. And you’ll leave because you respect yourself enough not to keep trying.” 

Eddie’s chest grows heavy with your implication. “That day’ll never come.” 

“That’s what everybody thinks in the beginning.” 

“We’re not everybody,” he asserts lightly. “Look at me.” 

You redirect your attention to him. 

“Do you want this?” Eddie asks, bringing a gentle hand to your cheek to wipe your tears. 

You nod because you’re afraid to say it out loud. The words have dried in your throat. 

His eyes continue to search yours, and it feels like he’s seeing more than he ought to see. But for some reason, your fear begins to melt. Because you realize you’re staring into the same warm eyes that had taken in your soaking figure at Quick Mart. The same eyes you managed to find at every hangout and party. The same eyes that would peer over at you during movie nights, heavy with sleep. 

Eddie’s mouth opens a couple of times before he finally says, “I love you.” 

Your breath is promptly sucked from your lungs because you know you’d heard him right. Yet somehow, it doesn’t feel like the first time. The words strike a part of your chest that recognizes the sentiment. It’s the same one that came along with all the times he called to check up on you, brought you snacks, stayed up late with you, played his guitar when you didn’t feel like speaking. It’s just that now, you’re actually hearing the three words out loud. 

“I know you didn’t grow up with the perfect example of what that looks like between two people—neither did I,” he continues. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve to take a crack at it ourselves.” He strokes your cheek with his thumb. 

What he’s not expecting is for you to lean forward and press your lips to his. He stills, only to melt into you in the next breath. Warmth engulfs both of you all the way down to your toes. Eddie’s sure you can hear his heart hammering within his ribcage. The kiss is tentative and sweet, just enough to get a taste and leave you with the sneaking suspicion you’ll forever be addicted. When you pull away, it’s to whisper against his lips. 

“I love you too.” 

Eddie smiles at that and pecks your lips again because he can’t help himself. 

Outside, the rain has stopped. If you were to part from each other and go look through the window, you’d see that a faint rainbow has stretched itself across the evening sky.    

-

Thank you so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I promise I see them all! 

EDDIE MASTERLIST 

ALL MASTERLISTS 

[riddlemelater]

Last Call - M.R (Part 3)

masterlist | nav | part 1 | part 2

⚠︎ all characters 18+ | MDNI ⚠︎

warnings: alcohol use/dependency, mentions of war, death, depiction of injury/blood, dark themes, post-war vibes, implied trauma, reader suffers from night terrors, Mattheo is being a little shit...

w.c: 4k

summary: Mattheo Riddle was sharp, charming, and haunted. Now he’s just a shadow at the bar—drunk, quiet, unraveling. You don’t know why you care. Maybe it’s who he used to be. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you like he doesn’t expect kindness anymore. But one things certain: you won't turn your back on him, not like the rest of the world already has.

The walls of Hogwarts would always feel like home to you, no matter what age you were, or how long it had been since you'd last stepped foot in the castle. There was just something comforting in the flickering sconces that lit every hallway, the warm crackle of wood burning that was always in earshot, or the distant smell of that evening's feast carrying through the air. Fresh pastry, roasted chicken, caramelised vegetables— all wafting through the heavy stone walls.

Your shoes clicked against the thick stone floors, the sound both familiar and comforting, reminding you of a younger version of yourself, trodding through the hallways as you tried to remember the route back to your common room. But something was amiss, something was different, and no matter how hard you tried to pinpoint it, you couldn't figure it out.

The halls were empty, for starters. Not just quiet, but empty. No portraits muttering to themselves or conversing with each other. No shifting suits of armour, or cheerful ghosts floating by. Not even the hum of magic in the air, something so small but so innately part of the school's charm.

No, all that remained was silence. Cold, hollow, silence.

You slowed your pace, gaze flickering to the stained-glass windows lining the corridor. They didn’t show the usual saints of Hogwarts or the heroic founders that you'd so often admired in your youth. Instead, they were blacked out. Not shattered or covered, but blank. As if the once colourful glass had been painted over with shadows.

Any attempt to peer outside was useless. Where you would normally catch a glimpse of the Scottish landscapes, the tall hoops of the Quidditch pitch, or even the distinct outline of the giant squid lounging in the Black Lake, there was nothing.

You squinted, as if by some miracle that might somehow bring the world back into focus, might claw something back from the nothingness. But instead, the darkness just stared back at you, cold and unflinching.

An unsettling sensation ghosted up your spine, like you'd suddenly materialised in some sinister, other world. One that looked exactly like Hogwarts, but in some twisted way wasn't.

Your feet moved as if they had a mind of their own, carrying you deeper into the castle. But with each step you took, you noticed something different, something wrong.

Each altered detail stuck out to you. As you passed the Great Hall, your brows furrowed at a stairwell you didn’t remember being there. Your fingers tensed at your sides as you turned down a hallway that definitely never existed. The air grew colder, and with each step, your chest burned as breathing grew harder and harder.

The torches were lit, but the flames didn’t flicker. They burned still and silent, blue-white and unnatural, casting no warmth over your chilled skin.

You didn't recognise your surroundings, and when, finally, blessedly, you heard a sound other than the gnawing stillness, your blood ran cold.

It wasn't comfort. It wasn't the chatter of students filing out of their classes, or the sound of cutlery clinking together as the feast began.

It was a scream.

A choked breath. A broken groan. Someone struggling to speak through clenched teeth— like they were drowning in their own blood.

Your walk became a run. Shoes pounding against the stone floors, echoing against the walls in sharp thuds. The persistent ache in your side forgotten, chest heaving with each laboured breath. You didn’t know what you’d find; all you knew was you had to get to whoever it was.

Before it was too late.

The corridor ended in an arched doorway, and the moment you crossed it, the world shifted. The warmth of Hogwarts vanished, flickered out like a flame with no more air. You were somewhere deeper now, older.

The walls were carved with symbols that seemed to squirm if you looked too long. The air damp and metallic, thick with the scent of earth, blood, and fire left to die.

And in the middle of it all— Mattheo.

Bound. Kneeling. Head bowed like he couldn’t lift it anymore.

You tried to call out, but no sound came. Your lips didn’t move. Your hands wouldn’t lift, no matter how hard you tried. Frozen, like you’d just caught the reflection of a Basilisk.

He looked up slowly. His face was drawn tight with pain, shadows under his eyes like bruises. Mattheo looked like hell personified; gaunt, bloody, and broken.

He heaved, gaze fixed on your face, eyes pooling with desperation. You tried again to reach out, to move closer and release him from the rope that dug painfully into his skin, but your feet felt glued to the floor.

Helpless you tried to call out to him, watching in horror as Mattheo’s figure lurched forwards once more, writhing, mouth wide in a soundless gasp of agony.

Growing desperate your pulse quickened, body twisting to look for a way out. But the hallway behind you was gone, you were trapped. Frantic now, your head whipped around scouring the stone walls for an explanation, for help, for mercy.

You were alone. Helpless but to watch as he squirmed in pain.

Nauseated, your gaze fixed on Mattheo. His body arched sickeningly, contorting as a silent, strangled sound wretched from his throat. His eyes wide and burning with terror.

Your own pulse roared in your ears as you tried to scream, pleading to Merlin, God— whoever— to make it stop.

Just as you were certain you couldn't watch another second, the scene before you began to warp— walls bending, light distorting, the sconces flickering and stretching like flames underwater.

It was like all oxygen had been stolen from the air, your throat too tight, lungs burning with each strained breath. Then, like a candle snuffed out between two fingers, darkness.

You gasped awake, thrashing against the damp sheets twisted tight around your limbs like ropes. Your pulse was hammering, sweat beaded on your forehead as your hands skimmed the damp sheets around you.

Gasping you propelled forward, panting as your bedroom came into focus. You blinked, head snapping from side to side, room illuminated only by one flickering candle you’d forgotten to blow out.

Mattheo wasn't here; he wasn't in agony. You weren't trapped. It wasn't real.

You didn’t move for a moment. Just sat there, spine rigid, chest heaving, hands fisted in the sheets like they were the only thing anchoring you to reality. You half-expected the candle to go out, for the silence to crack open again. Like the dream hadn’t finished with you yet.

But the candle on your bedside table only guttered in the quiet, its glow casting trembling shadows across the room. Your gaze fixed on it, unblinking, as if it might suddenly flicker out too. Cautious, anxious almost, you waited for it to morph once more into the still blue-white light from your nightmare.

Your pulse was still racing, still beating that sick rhythm in your ears like a war drum, but the change never came. Slowly, your fingers loosened, releasing the twisted fabric beneath them. You flexed your hands, not even noticing the way they shook as you held them out in front of you.

It was just a dream, you reasoned. Knees coming up to your chest without thinking, wrapping your arms around them as if to make yourself smaller— less exposed. Your forehead dropped to your knees, eyes fluttering shut as you let out a shaky breath.

Just a dream. A horrid, twisted dream you repeated in your mind.

The pressure behind your eyes was sharp, hot and searing, like something inside of you had cracked and hadn’t quite sealed right. That look in his eyes. That look of pure, unbridled fear settled at the forefront of your mind. Flashing across your vision, no matter how hard you tried to blink it away.

It had felt so real.

You pressed your forehead harder against your knees, squeezing your eyes shut. You knew what this was. You'd had dreams like this before—trauma dreams from the war. Not always like this one, but close enough. Dreams where you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t stop something from happening.

Couldn't protect someone from death.

Your body hadn’t caught up, so it didn’t matter what your mind said; didn't matter how many times you told yourself it was only a dream—it still felt like you'd been there. Like you’d failed him.

You pushed a shaky hand through your hair, dragging it back from your face. Your fingers snagging on the damp strands. Somewhere in the back of your mind, Mick Tolliver’s voice crept in—quiet and offhand, but echoing now in the quiet of your bedroom.

"Fellas like that? They don't come back clean, that's for sure."

You let out another long, shaky breath. You weren’t a seer. You didn’t have visions. This wasn’t that. It was your brain, dredging up things it didn’t know how to process. A pressure valve releasing in the ugliest way possible. You knew that.

But it didn’t make it any easier to sit with.

Your hands were still shaky by the time morning came. Showering had no effect; no matter how hard you scrubbed at your skin, it was impossible to wash the dream away fully.

Your appetite was non-existent; the thought of eating made you gag, never mind the uneasy feeling that had settled at the pit of your stomach. Even as you walked to work, your mind couldn't sit still, couldn't detach itself from the memory of Mattheo strung out and writhing before you.

"You're slow today."

The voice pierced through your clouded thoughts— Albion, already behind the bar with his sleeves rolled to his elbows and a crate of Odgen's Firewhiskey bottles in his arms.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze and glancing up at the voice disorientedly. You’d been standing still, one hand on a drinks tray and staring blankly at the wall of spirits behind the bar like they owed you something.

"Didn’t sleep," you muttered, realising Albion was expecting a response, and setting the tray down before your fingers dropped it. Avoiding his gaze, you busied yourself with unloading the glassware from the washer, wiping over the already dry glasses to keep yourself busy.

Albion didn't answer straight away. Just set the crate down with a thud, and looked at you the way someone might study a mirror that had fallen from the wall for fractures.

"You've looked better," he said finally. Not in a judgmental way, you knew he didn't mean it like that, but you could hear the concern in his voice as he said it.

"Thanks," you retorted flatly. You tried for a smile, but it didn’t quite land. More of an awkward grimace than anything. Your bottom lip stung beneath your teeth, willing yourself to keep it together.

But Albion didn’t push. He never did, and he didn’t look away either.

“You look like you didn’t come all the way back from wherever you went last night,” he commented, voice dry but quiet. "Is it the dreams again?"

Your hand paused mid-reach for a bar towel. Lips twitching as you tried to pretend he wasn't right. But he saw through you, immediately.

That was the thing about Albion. He noticed everything and always seemed to know the right thing to say, perks of being a bartender, you assumed.

You didn’t answer. Just nodded once and busied yourself wiping down the already-clean bar. Albion knew about the dreams more than anyone else; he was the only person you trusted not to have you checked into St Mungo's the minute you opened up about them.

Albion didn’t say anything for a moment. Just leaned against the back counter, arms crossed, watching as you lined up the tumblers with unnecessary precision. The silence stretched, but not unkindly.

“Is it still the same ones?” he asked, brow arching curiously. “From the war?”

You hesitated. That was usually the answer. But this time, it wasn’t true. You debated lying for a moment, but he always knew when you were lying to him. It was like a sixth sense, you weren't entirely convinced he wasn't a legilimens at times, no matter how much he denied it.

“No.” Your voice was quiet, ashamed almost. “A... different one.”

Albion tilted his head slightly, waiting. You took a breath and reached for the next glass, only to stop short, fingers trembling just enough to rattle it against the one beside it. Your eyes closed in frustration, grasping at the back counter to steady yourself.

Albion moved toward you and began placing tumblers onto the shelf like he'd not noticed. "You know," he spoke, sparing a glance over at your shaking hands, "some things in that part of town… they’re built to see your weaknesses before you even step inside."

You swallowed dryly and nodded, solemn and slow.

Albion gave a low chuckle, the kind that didn’t quite reach his mouth. “Always said you Gryffindors are terrible at keeping your noses out of trouble. And worse at pretending you don’t care.” He nudged a tumbler into place with a small clink, just as he fixed you with a stare. “Hearts on your sleeve's even when it’s bleeding through your jumpers.”

You laughed under your breath, even when he meant to chastise, Albion seemed to know how to make you crack a smile.

"Knockturn's a dodgy place, love. No wonder your mind's playing up again." He continued, softly and with the wisdom that people his age seemed to possess. "Don't let it get to you."

You nodded awkwardly and pressed your palms flat to the bar top. The polished wood was cool beneath your skin, grounding.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “It was stupid, Albion. I know.”

Albion let out a long, slow breath. Not disappointed. Not surprised. He'd probably expected you'd do it, likely even knew the second you made a move to leave the night before.

“Well... did you find him?”

“No.” You swallowed. "That Mick Tolliver's got a few loose cauldrons rattling around upstairs, though." A small smile spread across your face as you spoke.

Shuddering, Albion barked a laugh in agreement. "The world's full of strange folk. I knew Mick back in the day, he's harmless—but he's a bit... full-on. Knows how to talk a good game, right enough, but you can't trust a word out of his mouth."

Albion straightened, pushing off the back counter when you didn't reply. You were already wondering how much of what Tolliver had said was truthful, if Mattheo really was in any danger at all. Albion seemed to notice the thoughts swirling around, even if he didn't let on.

"Maybe he doesn't want to be found, love," he said, reaching for a bottle at the back of the bar. Something dark, and by the dust lingering on the neck, one that wasn't touched very often. "Whatever it is, he's bloody lucky he's got you lookin' out for him, eh?"

Your eyes dropped, despite his tone, you couldn't help but feel like you'd disappointed him, too. He'd warned you from the start not to get mixed up in this, yet here he was, still acting like you could do no wrong in his eyes.

He sighed as he uncorked the bottle, grabbing one of the clean tumblers he'd just stacked, and poured two fingers' worth without asking. The glass slid across the polished wood with a gentle scrape, stopping in front of you as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Drink that." He said gruffly, yet with more kindness and sympathy than you probably deserved, you'd done it to yourself after all. "Calms the nerves."

You stared at the drink for a second, then your fingers curled around the glass, eyes sweeping over him from the corner of your eye. He watched with an approving look as you took a long sip, the liquid burning as you swallowed nearly half in one gulp.

It certainly wasn't a calming draught, but it helped to settle your frayed nerves, at least.

"Was it him, then?" he asked eventually, once you'd swallowed the whiskey and your eyes had fluttered shut in contemplation. "In the dream."

Your jaw clenched as you gave the smallest nod. Embarrassed, almost, but grateful that it was Albion who was seeing this side of you. He didn’t sigh, didn’t offer comfort. Just looked past you at the dark window above the sink, deep in thought as he scratched at his beard.

“Some people,” he said, “don’t know they’re drowning ‘til they’re under. And even then, they won’t reach for help. Not unless they’ve got something left to hold onto.”

He had a way with words; sometimes he'd come out with things like this, and you'd just be left to sit with them. You set the glass down tenderly, glancing toward him.

“And you think I’m that something?”

“I think you want to be,” he said. “Which is worse, probably.”

You blinked. His answer hit hard, true in a way that made your chest tighten. But Albion had that bluntness about him, that ability to tell you something straight, no matter how hard it may be.

And it made you think. Did you really want to go chasing after ghosts? After someone you once knew— and, years ago, at that. You weren't so sure you could, not if it meant you'd never sleep well again.

“I can’t fix him,” you said finally, but you weren't entirely sure if it was Albion or yourself you were convincing. "I know that."

“No,” Albion agreed. “But you can make sure you don’t go down with him.”

Silence fell again, but it didn’t feel like judgment. Just quiet. Like he’d said his piece, and now it was up to you—cut your losses, or keep stringing yourself along.

“You plan on opening tonight?” you asked eventually, voice hoarse, dipped in humour. Grasping at straws, not wanting to speak anymore about the curly-haired boy who plagued your thoughts night and day.

Albion gave a dry snort. “Not unless you plan on helping me unload the rest of that Firewhiskey,” he gestured toward the crate, all seriousness gone from his face.

You nodded once and smirked a little at how easy things flowed between the two of you. How simple it was to have a difficult conversation and never worry about the aftermath. You grinned slightly, lifting the glass for another sip and swallowed what was left whole.

"Better get a shift on then, Albs." You said, straightening yourself up and dusting down your apron.

The next few hours passed in a blur of serving on autopilot and nodding at jokes you didn't really hear. You were split down the middle, tugged in two directions. But you kept circling back to one fact: You didn’t know Mattheo. He was just another customer at the end of the day.

Besides, he had friends. Friends who cared—even if they didn’t always show it. If he needed help, he had options. Theodore had all but crumbled at the bar not long ago when Mattheo was nowhere to be seen, and even Draco had seemed nervous when he asked after him. Which said more than words ever could.

If Mattheo Riddle truly was in danger—if he really had people after him—he should go to them. Draco Malfoy was one of Britain’s top Aurors, for Merlin’s sake. If anyone could protect him, it was Malfoy.

Not you.

You were being dramatic. Some stubborn Gryffindor streak you hadn’t outgrown. You weren’t responsible for him. No matter how much you wanted to help, it wasn’t your place.

You’d already felt guilty enough to go walking into Knockturn Alley, alone and with no backup plan if things went south. But that wasn’t bravery—it was stupidity.

It had just been a dream. A bad one. Your body would forget the worst of it soon enough. Your brain was already trying to file it away—into whatever drawer it kept nightmares full of fire and blood and people you shouldn’t care about.

Mattheo Riddle was not your problem. And by the end of your shift, you’d nearly convinced yourself it was true.

You left the bar that night with tired legs and a tighter chest, the sky above you heavy with clouds that didn’t break. The streets were wet from a drizzle you hadn’t noticed starting. You didn’t look over your shoulder once.

The curtains were already drawn, and you were certain you hadn’t left them that way.

You noticed it the second you stepped into your flat. The air was different — cooler, disturbed. The kind of change you didn’t notice with your eyes, but with your skin. Instinct.

Your hand hovered by the doorframe for longer than it should have. Listening. Waiting. Every nerve stretched taut like a bowstring. Fumbling silently, your fingers clutched your wand, drawing it out of your pocket slowly and pointing it ahead of you before you made any attempt to move.

Then you heard it. A thud. Not loud, but definite. Coming from your bedroom.

Your blood ran cold. Mind wandering back to Mick's words yesterday, "They'll come for you too."

Part of you wondered if you should call someone, but it was a small flat. Whoever, or whatever, was in your bedroom would have heard you by now; there was no time to write a letter to MLE or send a message via Patronus.

Not if you wanted to catch them before they caught you.

You exhaled shakily, knuckles white with how hard you were grasping your wand, and took a few tentative steps into the hallway.

You could hear it again, like bedsheets rustling around. Like they were looking for something. Perhaps you were being burgled, you reasoned, just an ordinary muggle thief searching for cash or jewellery. You inched closer to the door, cursing silently as the floorboard underneath your foot creaked loudly.

The rustling stopped.

You froze, wand raised, and heart hammering like it might crack a rib. The noise had definitely stopped, and no matter how much you reasoned with yourself, you couldn't get the image of a masked hit wizard waiting on the other side of the door.

You moved again, breath caught between your teeth as you edged toward the bedroom door like it might explode. Silently, your hand reached out, gently grasping the cool brass door handle and twisting it slightly. Your wand still pointed ready to use whatever curse came to mind first on your attacker.

As the door swung open, you inhaled sharply. A nasty knock-back curse on the tip of your tongue when your eyes settled on the intruder.

Collapsed halfway onto your bed, coat drenched, boots trailing muck across your floor like he'd dragged himself inside. Mattheo Riddle.

For a moment, nothing made sense. Like your brain had short-circuited from exhaustion and fear. Like your dream hadn’t ended, just bled into real life. Your first thought was that it wasn’t real.

“What the fuck?”

It came out sharp and breathless. Your wand stayed pointed. Your heart tried to claw its way up your throat. “What—how— Riddle what the fuck are you doing in my bed?"

He stirred weakly. Barely. Drunken.

You advanced one step, fury outrunning fear. “You broke into my flat? You broke in—why?”

Mattheo didn’t respond. Just slumped further onto the bed, like even holding his head up was too much.

"Godric give me strength," you whispered, your wand arm dropping limply by your side, rushing towards his slumped figure. His wand dangled uselessly from one hand, forgotten. His mouth was bloodied. One eye swollen shut.

"Mattheo," you hissed, unsure whether you wanted to slap him or tend to his wounds, "Mattheo, wake up!"

He didn’t. Just groaned once, barely conscious, arm pushing your fussing hand away, and passed out cold on your bed. He didn’t move again. Not when you dragged off his boots, not when you muttered every curse you knew— he just lay there, dead to the world, while you took the couch. Infuriated yet slightly relieved.

At least he wasn't dead, yet.

©️riddlemelater. 2025.

[shaunashipman]

i told my friend i would find him some beginner’s giffing tutorials, but all the one’s i could find were either years out of date, used a method that made me go “huh”, or incorporated ready-made actions. all perfectly fine, but if i’m sending someone a tutorial i’d rather it be one for a method i understand enough to help with.

so, here is a beginner’s guide to giffing, as told by cleo, a neurotic, detailed, and organization happy individual. there will be many pictures.

this tutorial will strictly cover the gif making portion of the process, from getting your screencaps to importing in photoshop, resizing/cropping, and sharpening. i was going to briefly go over colouring, but tumblr only allows 30 images and i ran out of space, so i'll have to do a separate colouring tutorial (which also means i can go into more detail, yay).

downloading the videos, whether direct downloads or t*rrents, is also another tutorial. but make sure you’re using at least 1080p, and the bigger the file the better. a single episode of a ~45 minute show should ideally be 2gb at minimum. a full length movie should ideally be at least 5gb. imo 2160p/4k files are not really necessary; the quality increase is negligible, and it takes a lot longer to screencap them. if you do use 2160p/4k files, try and make sure it is not HDR, as those videos are often washed out and require a different screencapping program to fix.

Programs

I am using a cracked version photoshop 2022, but whichever version you use should be pretty much the same

Actions. not a program but a function inside photoshop, where you essentially record a series of steps, and then you can simple play that action when needed and those steps will repeat, which saves considerable time when giffing. I will note which parts of the tutorial are best saved as actions, and explain how to create actions at the end.

For screencapping i use kmplayer it’s free and very simple to use

not at all a necessary program, but i use freecommander instead of the regular windows file explorer as i find the dual panels very helpful when moving the frames around

Screencapping

there are many programs you can use to get the screencaps from a video, a lot are basically the same, some are better suited for particular video file types. kmplayer is a very simple program to use, but afaik the capture function only works on mkv. files (the only other file type i’ve tried is mp4, which plays but does not capture)

once you open your video file in kmplayer, we’re going to open the advanced capture window, found under capture→advanced capture, or alt+v

the window should look like this

A-this is where all your screencaps will save to. i recommend making a specific folder for all your screencaps

B-make sure this is set to png for best quality

C-this is the number of screencaps you want to take, guesstimate how many you will need, keeping in mind that most videos are approx. 25 frames per second, and you should always cap a bit more than you think just in case

D-make sure “every/frame” is selected and set to 1

E-make sure “original” is selected, resizing will be done in photoshop

F-make sure “correct aspect ratio” is unselected

go to the part of the video you want to gif, and pause it just slightly before that part starts, then select ‘start’. the screencaps will start to save to the file, no need to play the video, and will automatically stop once it has capped the number of frames you have chosen

and here is how they look inside freecommander. i have already made a folder for this gifset, which is on the left. now you’re going to make a folder for each individual gif. i’ve decided this one will have four gifs, so create four folders (i just label them gif 01, gif 02, etc) and then move the frames for each gif into their respective folder

while you can always delete frames once the gif is made if it’s too big, i prefer to make sure i have the correct number of frames before i start. the gif limit on tumblr is 10mb, so it’s good to look at the scene/shots you’re giffing and decide approx. what dimensions your gif will be. full size gifs have a width of 540px and your choice of height. if you go for a square gif (540x540) you can usually fit 40-50 frames. if you’re planning for a smaller height (such as 540x400) you can usually fit more around 50-60 frames.

and here are the caps inside the folders. another reason i like freecommander is it’s ability to “multi-rename” files. the default file explorer can do so as well, but you have to do each folder individually and you can’t customize the new names as much. either way, i prefer to rename the files to each gif just to scratch my organization itch.

Introduction to Photoshop

NOTE: i have changed many of my keyboard shortcuts in photoshop to ones i prefer, so any you see listed in the menus of these screenshots are likely not the original shortcuts. you can see and change them yourself under edit→keyboard shortcuts

quick run-down of the photoshop interface. i have adjusted placement of some things from the default so this isn’t exactly how your photoshop will look when you open it, but everything is labelled, either on top or by hovering over the element. once you’re more familiar and have your process down i would recommend adjusting the workspace to suit your process.

A-your main tools and colour selector. almost all the tools have either several tools in one, or have alternate options which can be accessed by right-clicking the tool. you can also hover over each tool to get a pop-up with a quick explanation of the tool

B-additional “windows” such as history, properties, actions etc. can be opened from the window menu at the top and moved around with click-and-drag. history and properties should already be there by default, but probably on the right hand side instead. each window opens and closes with a click

C-the timeline window where the gif is made. the white square is a single frame of a gif, and on the row below is the play controls. this will not be there by default and will need to be opened from the window menu

D-adjustment layers for colouring

E-layers box. this is where the screencaps will show, along with adjustment layers, text layers, etc.

Opening Screencaps in Photoshop

go to file → open navigate to the folder for your first gif, select the first screencap, and check the image sequencing, and click open

a window will open labelled frame rate. set it to 23.976 and select ok

the screencaps will open in the timeline view, seen as the blue panel line at the bottom, and the screencaps are combined into video layer in the layer panel on the right.

Creating Frames

technically, you could go right into your cropping/resizing and sharpening from here, however if you do that directly then you have to keep the screencaps in the folders you have, otherwise if you save and re-open the gif it won’t move.

this next part should be made into an action.

at the top right of the timeline window, click four vertical lines to open the menu and select convert frames → flatten frames into clips. depending on how long the gif is, this can take a minute.

the layers panel should now look like this, each frame of the gif is now its own layer.

the very bottom layer will be the video group. this can be deleted as we’ve made the frames from it

in same timeline menu as before, right under “flatten frames into clips”, select “convert to frame animation” and the screen should now look like this. this will be the end of this action.

Cropping and Resizing

with widescreen footage, sometimes it’s just shorter than 1080p, but most of the time it will have the black bars on the top and bottom, and frustratingly, they’re not always the same size. it’s good to save the most common sizes as actions.

to find the size of the actual screen you turn on the rulers under view→rulers and check the height. then open your canvas size dialogue box under image→canvas size and change the height, making sure pixels are selected in the dropdown. yellowjackets is what i call “xtra wide” which is 800px. “normal” widescreen is 960px.

next we’re going to resize the caps. i also make actions for this, one for each potential gif size. open the image size dialogue box under image→image size and change the height of the image to your desired height plus 4 pixels. these extra pixels are to prevent a line at the top and/or bottom of your completed gif. now re-open the canvas size box, change the width to 540px, and the height to the desired, removing those 4 extra pixels. i have set this one to 540x540. this is where you would end the resizing action.

and as you can see she is off-screen. select the top layer, hold down shift and select the bottom layer to select them all, and with the move tool (the very top one) activated, click and drag to move it left to right as needed to centre the figure/s. as you move it a box will appear telling you how far you are moving it in any direction. make sure you are only moving it left or right, not up or down. to be certain of that, open the properties tab.

the y axis is your up/down, x is left/right. for this gif the y needs to stay at -98. you can also manually change the x axis number instead of dragging the image. also helpful for making sure multiple gifs of the same shot are all positioned the same.

the layer are currently ordered with the 1st at the top and the last at the bottom. with all layers still selected, go to layers→arrange→reverse. the last layer will be on top now. if there is movement in your gif, check if you need to alter the position again to make sure the movement properly centred. but once you are satisfied with the position, the layers should be in “reverse” position, of last layer on top. this is to ensure that the gif plays forwards.

Converting Gif

this should also be made into an action, going through sharpening process

in the timeline menu, select “make frames from layers”

the frames are now populated in animation window. in timeline, click select all frames. go to any of the frames on the bottom and click the little arrow beneath it, select other, and enter 0.07 seconds. this is not a necessary step, as we will have to adjust the frame rate at the end, most likely to 0.05, but if we don’t change the frame rate here, then when we play the gif while working on it to check how it looks, it will play very fast.

in the same menu at the right of the timeline box, select “convert to video timeline”

then, making sure all layers in the panel on the right are selected, go to filter→convert for smart filters. this turns all the layers into a single smart object.

but if you look where i’ve circled, it says the gif is 99 frames long*, when in fact there are only 47. if you are making regular “scene” gifs, basic colouring and maybe a caption, this is fine and does not need to be fixed, it will play at the same speed. if you want to change it to display (approx.**) the correct number of frames, go to the timeline menu on the right, select “set timeline frame rate” and change it from 30 to 15

*if it does not list a frame number by 4 digits but instead says 5f, 10f, 15f, etc. go to the timeline menu on the right, select panel options, and change timeline units to “frame number”

**the reason why this is only approximate is because the actual frame rate is not a a whole number, so when changing the frame rate it isn’t a 1:1, and 47 frames becomes 50 frames. the extra frames are removed at the very end, but if you are not doing any edits that require working frame by frame, there’s no need to change the frame rate here at all

Sharpening

this is, as it sounds, making the gif look sharper. to start go to filter→sharpen→smart sharpen and this window opens. play around with the dials to see what each ones does. the below settings are good for most high quality footage.

Amount-basically, how sharp do you want it

Radius-hard to explain, but this essentially sets how deep the lines of the sharpness are

Reduce Noise-smooths the pixels

once you click okay your single layer should look like this.

you’re going to then right click the layer and select duplicate layer. with the top layer selected, go to filters→blur→gaussian blur and set the radius to 1.0 pixels.

then change the opacity of the top layer to 10%. this is to essentially soften the sharpening a bit, as if it’s too sharp it can make the colouring wonky. this opacity level can also be changed depending on need.

finally, select both layers, right click, and click “group from layers”. your gif is now fully made and sharpened.

Colouring

yeah. ran out of image space. but this is where you would do your colouring and add a caption or any other text.

Converting & Exporting

when all your colouring is done, you’re ready to start saving your gif. you can do it directly from your current file, but that means essentially losing your colouring, as all those layers will be merged together. i am someone who likes to save my psd’s (photoshop files), at least until i’ve posted the gifs, in case i need to fix something in the colouring. if you’d like to keep yours as well, open the history tab and select the first icon at the bottom “create new document from current state”. this will open a copy of the file in a new tab. save the original file and you can close it, continuing all work on the copy file.

select your all your layers, convert them into a smart object from filter->convert for smart filters, then follow the same steps from Creating Frames above. once you're back in frame animation, select Create Frames From Layers, and once again set the frame animation speed.

most people set the speed to 0.05. i personally set it to 0.05 or 0.06 depending on the length of the gif. check how it looks at 0.05, if it seems too fast, try 0.06.

now to save. go to file->export->save for web (legacy). the number is the lower left corner is your gif size, it needs to be under 10mb or else you'll have to delete some frames.

the right panel is your save options. the preset dropdown has some built-in settings, but you won't use them because (at least on my version) the presets only go up to 128 colours, instead of the full 256. the 3 i've highlighted in green are the only one's you'll adjust as needed. the settings below i use for i'd say 90% of my gifs. i'll sometimes change the adaptive dropdown to one of the other options, ocaissionaly the diffusion, and rarely the no transparency dither, but play around with them and see how they change the look of the gif.

when you're satisfied with the look of your gif, click save at the bottom right of the window.

voilà! you now have a gif.

Actions

this is your actions panel. the triangle on the left side is the button to open it. remember, if it's not already there, go to windows->actions to open it.

the buttons on the bottom, left to right, are stop recording, record action, play action, new folder, new action, and delete.

as you can see, i have different folders for my resizing, sharpening, captions, saving, and my 1 step (temporary) actions. to run an action is very simple; click the action, and click play.

to create an action, click the new action button, a box will pop up, give the action a name, and click record. the record button at the bottom of the action window will turn red. now perform all the steps you want it to record, and click stop recording. keep in mind it will record every single thing you do, including in other open files, so if the action you plan to record will have a lot of steps, it might help to write them down first.

to modify an action, select the step in the action above where you'd like the new step to be, hit record, perform the step, stop recording. select the step you'd like to delete, and click the delete button.

steps within the actions can be clicked and dragged, both within that action and moved to other actions. actions can also be moved between folders.

[midorimooon]

pages from fiction | hawks x reader

summary - hawks discovers you read smutty manga ... about him. word count - 4k notes - some shameless smut for the new year featuring afab! reader and the birdman :) animated borders credit @/enchanthings-a warnings - smut, use of pet name, biting, teasing, oral (f!), PIV penetration, humor 18+ only!

You have a visitor… Not unwanted, just unexpected. 

It’s around noon when you return to your apartment. You only manage to kick off your shoes when you find your friend, Hawks, on your sofa. His massive wings are pinned against the cushions, his gloves, headset, and eyewear discarded on the coffee table.  

He must have entered through the balcony door, often left unlocked whenever he wanted to visit or take a break from patrol. It’s not an unusual thing to come home to, so you’re not put off by his appearance. He knows how to keep himself entertained while you’re out. Sometimes channel surfing, scrolling on his phone, or on occasion, napping on your sofa. 

Today, he seems to be in the mood to read.

You take a few steps from the door, only to stop in your tracks as your eyes zero in on the book held in his hands. 

Your good-natured greeting dies on your tongue, too shocked to process what you’re actually seeing. 

It was a mistake, an oversight on your part, but you can’t take it back now. But if you could, you would have never left that book out in the open. Because you never intended for Hawks to find the doujinshi based off of him lying around where he could find it. 

Hawks peers up, giving you a friendly onceover,  way too calm for your liking that you blurt out, “It was Mirko.” 

It was a gag gift from Mirko. In honor of April Fool’s Day that passed recently. Her sense of humor often involved teasing you for your crush on Hawks. So much, that opportunity knocked at the right time and she presented you with an explicit gift. 

“Manga?” You had raised a brow at the offering. “A joke manga?” you added, taking it without a proper glance.  

She grinned like a madwoman, urging you to give it more attention. “A niche kind of manga. Thought of you when I saw it.” 

Flipping to the front cover, blood rushed to your face, jumpstarting your pulse. 

Large, feathered wings, a bare chest, bedroom eyes that resembled your favorite Pro Hero with the very suggestive title—  

“ A Hawks in Rut ,” Hawks recites aloud, bringing you back to the present. He rises to his feet, leveling you with a mischievous gaze.  

You’re guilty, and he knows you are, because it’s the truth. Despite giving Mirko stick for the stunt, you didn’t turn down the gift. Nor did anything stop you from poring over each panel, deep into the night.  

Your mind was in overdrive, inserting yourself in the heroine’s shoes as the manga-version of Hawks ravaged every inch of her. You didn’t even know stuff like this existed. Fan-made, X-rated content of Pro Heroes for public consumption? Is this even legal? You demanded to know where Mirko got this, but her lips were sealed. 

You haven’t budged an inch, rooted to the spot by the door. Fight or flight, your mind crosses between two thoughts: snatch the manga back from Hawks or flee your own apartment.  

Hawks pays your inner conflict no mind. And if he does, then he’s being a little shit about it. Because he approaches with a casual swagger, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other still holding the manga.  

As he draws closer, your mind glitches, stuck on repeat. “It was Mirko.”

Hawks croons. “Aww, that’s cute. Giving you a manga using my likeness.”

“It was a joke,” comes your quick response. 

“What part?” Hawks tilts his head. “The gift? The story? The drawings of me naked?”

Your eyes widen, mouth floundering. “No, no, no, Hawks—no! I wasn’t—” You weren’t poking fun at him if that’s what he means. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

His voice dials down to a husk. “Oh? So, tell me, birdy…”

Any attempt you make at a rational response is futile. Because hearing that pet name, the same one used in the manga—out of Hawks’s own mouth — turns your mind into cotton. It’s a sin how much you liked it, and it was criminal to want to hear it used again and again…

However, you gather your wits before you lose them entirely, keen to know, “How much of that did you read?” 

From the amused sparkle in his eyes, it’s obvious Hawks has read more than enough. He puffs out a laugh. “Not much to ‘read’, really. Unless you mean the dialogue of...pleasure.” Another step closer and he’s haunting your space. “How much did you read?”

All of it in one sitting. Several times you tried to set the book down but couldn’t. Rather you were hooked, flipping through it, a budding warmth dampening the center of your thighs. By the end of it, you were dizzy and breathless, passing out with those lewd illustrations stamped behind your eyes. They invaded your dreams too. Hawks, nude, looming over you in bed…

“Birdy…” he singsongs, voice dripping with honey. “Lost you there for a second. Must have been a page-turner. The kind you read late at night, under the covers, maybe?”

Your pulse beats fast as he plucks your hand. “And this between your legs?” he whispers into your knuckles, warm breath turning into a soft kiss.

Without thinking, your hand reels back, incriminating yourself.

Hawks’s brows reach his hairline. “Oh…someone looks guilty. But what for?” He veers closer, until your back settles on the door. 

He takes advantage of that, planting his hand against the wood, a hairsbreadth away from your head. 

It’s only now you realize he’s not wearing his jacket. From the corners of your vision, all you see is strong, lean muscle that drags your gaze from his arm to his chest. 

You want to have some sense of decorum, but how can you?

Of course, you always knew his hero uniform was on the snug side. Intended for streamlining in the air while remaining lightweight. But you never realized just how skin-tight it was. Like the fabric was painted on. It moves with his chest, sculpting its strength, outlining every inch of him in the best way.  

Venturing a glimpse up, you’re met with a golden gaze, both predatory and beautiful, sending a shiver down your spine. 

For a long moment, he holds your stare, the intensity of it making you weak-kneed. 

“You know,” Hawks starts, flitting his attention back to the book. “Whoever drew these, they’re very creative. They did overexaggerate my eyes, however,” he laughs, turning a page. “Didn’t nail down my wingspan either. Can’t blame them. Too many feathers to draw. Not really the star of the show, right?”

Another turn of the page, the wrinkle of paper sounds like thunder.

“As for my dick…” 

He’s shameless, having way too much fun toying with you. Testing your limits, like a predator with its prey.  

He nods, contemplative, a look of appraisal. “…I’m flattered, they got something right.”

The mischief in his eyes has you averting your stare, anywhere else, only to brake at something beneath his belt.  

It’s a silhouette at first, but as you gawk further, the impossible-to-ignore bulge strains within the confines of Hawks’s pants. 

His eyes drop to his crotch, and he hums, “Speak of the devil.”

Nerves tie a knot in your throat. In classic Hawks fashion, he’s playful about it, blurring the line between seductive and casual. His serenity only leaves you more flustered as your imagination runs rampant, envisioning the details of Hawks’s cock. 

But he’s not done yet. Hawks carries on, flipping through the book once more. “This looks like a fun position. Got to be really flexible to pull this off.”

This time, he turns the manga to your sights, and you almost swoon. 

An entire, singular panel spans both pages. Hawks and the heroine on her bed, him hovering her very, very vulnerable form. Legs folded so tightly with her knees nearly touching her shoulders. And the only dialogue in the panel coming from Hawks: I’m gonna breed you like this. 

You remember drooling over that panel for so long you needed reprieve before bed. The page was even dogeared because you were such a fucking perv.

He looms over, leaving a scant gap between your bodies. Move one inch and you’ll nudge his front. You’re stiff, doing the worst at ignoring his erection. 

“And about my rut,” comes his voice again, sensuous as silk. 

You swallow hard, skin prickling with heat that gathers between your thighs.

Up close, Hawks’s smirk only makes things worse or better…you’ve yet to decide. Regardless, the flash of his Colgate-smile, conspiratorial, pours sparks down your frame. 

He tuts, the sound reaching your ears like a purr. “That silly rumor.”

You blink, pulled out of the fantasy for a moment. You were privy to the alleged spring rut that Hawks experienced. Or so you thought. You had boldly asked Mirko about it once, and she seemed to have more intel.

“That’s why he’s always on ‘special assignment’ for a few weeks,” she had alluded. 

Social media and the tabloids were no different, publishing stories about how Hawks was once again missing in action from public hero events around April. The speculations circulated on the streets too that Hawks entering a rut every spring was practically decreed fact.  

Except it might not be fact after all. Just fodder?

You look up at him, deeply curious, and mildly disappointed… “A rumor?” 

You half-expect Hawks to burst into laughter. Perhaps even to bemoan the public’s misconception of him. But what you see instead is the look of a hunter striking his gaze. 

You stammer, “So, it’s not true—?” 

It happens in a flurry. You’re swept off your feet one second, and airborne, over Hawks’s shoulder the next. And the rest of your apartment glides past your sights. 

Hawks drops you onto your bed, fingering the hem of your shirt.   

Red feathers flutter around to assist. Hawks is hasty, dragging your shirt, while something sharp and swift cuts the back of your bra. The world is nothing but cotton and rustling fabric until your shirt is disposed.

You flop back onto the mattress, tits to the wind. Next, your jeans and underwear are dragged off without fanfare, And Hawks…despite his hurry, takes a pause, blowing out a wolf-whistle.

Sharp eyes rake your chest. “Look at that…there’s a fox hiding under those clothes.” 

Your mind goes static with anticipation, entranced with the way Hawks shamelessly appraises your body. 

There’s a dark and raptorial shift as Hawks’s gaze snaps to yours. He drops forward, wings flared out, casting a crimson eclipse from above. 

“Hawks?”

His hand skims up your stomach, leaving a path of goosebumps in its wake before palming your breast. You mewl as he squeezes your flesh.

“You’re so soft,” he rasps, crawling over you, a predator ready to strike. “I can’t wait to leave my marks…” He seals that oath with a searing kiss. 

It catches you by surprise, you try to keep up with his pace, but it’s all-consuming. Sloppy and hungry, a faint whimper falls out from your lips, but Hawks hears it. 

He pulls back, a tendril of saliva breaking apart. “You want that too.” He grins, a growl scraping against his throat. “I can tell. Just fucking look at you. Naked, sprawled on your back, and…”

He trails off, eyes doing the same until they reach your center. 

You’re so wet for him, the arousal leaking from your pussy long before he brought you to the bed. 

Hawks bares his teeth like an animal. “Shit, you got yourself so messy.” He drags his nails up your plush thighs. 

Your skin shivers under the possessive sting. “Hawks—I thought it was a rumor?”

“It is. But everything’s a rumor until proven true." A carnal edge curls around his words, leaving you clueless.  “So—” you breathe. “Are you—are you really in rut—” 

The details of the manga’s story are hazy now, you can only recall a few details. 

Hawks requesting the heroine’s assistance in his lust-filled affliction. From there it went from zero to one hundred fast. 

As you stare at Hawks now in the flesh, it’s like the pages from fiction have come to life. 

“Hawks—” you gasp. 

“ Keigo ,” he cuts you short, voice tight. “If you want me to stop, call me Hawks.” That playful side to him from earlier is nowhere to be seen. It’s been swallowed up by something else. “Call me by my real name…and I’ll keep going. Say my name, and I won’t stop .”

The choice is yours, hanging in the stagnant air. Your breathing is labored, dizzy, an ache gnaws at your stomach. From the way Hawks watches you, his chest stiffening as he sucks in a sharp breath, his willpower is withering. 

You’ve always been careful using his real name. Security reasons, and because ‘Hawks’ was sewn tight within his identity. If you utter his actual name, you won’t be able to undo whatever he has planned. 

It’s a thought you should consider. Rethink how this will affect your friendship with him going forward. How it will affect your own feelings. Despite the circumstances, he’s giving you the option, handing over the reins before he takes them back. 

However, those principles elude you, overshadowed by your own selfish desire. 

Your fate leaves your lips in a forbidden whisper, you’re not sure he hears it. “Keigo.” 

But Keigo does, smug as he presses his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. “That’s my birdy.”

You whine at the affection. Impatient, you weave your hands into his hair to draw him close. He indulges you for a moment, sliding his tongue inside of your mouth. He tastes of sweet coffee, the stroke of his tongue akin to a shot of espresso.

He releases a guttural moan. “Fuck…you’re a great kisser.” He deepens the kiss, stealing the air from your lungs.  

Caught between half-breaths, your head spins. 

“Stay still for me.” Keigo nips at your jaw before falling back on his haunches.

You comply, watching him peel at the neckline of his shirt with precision. Even so, he’s quick with it, wings folding together so that he can slip it off. It’s like an art form, the way his torso stretches, the deftness in his fingers working with the fabric, and the bend of his wings. By the time he’s shirtless, there’s more to see. 

Toned muscle, a six-pack carved into the planes of his stomach, a happy trail sinking past his belt. All that hero training evident in his body, you imagine the same applies to his stamina. At least you’re soon to find out. 

Keigo’s shirt lands somewhere in the room, humored to find you admiring his physique. “You’re the judge. Tell me, better than those drawings?”

The cockiness is distinct in his tone, a signature trait of his that you’ve always adored in secret. If the circumstances were different, you wouldn’t feed that ego of his. But pinned beneath him, a hot frustration simmers in your belly—you don’t care. 

Mouth agape, you nod. Not an ounce of shame left in you.   

Keigo lowers to kiss you again. From the sting of his teeth, you feel blood rushing to your lower lip. He scratches kisses on your neck then, sucking harshly at the skin, leaving marks by your pulse. 

True to his earlier promise, Keigo takes a bite out of every part of you. Your throat, your collarbone, like he’s desperate to devour you before he misses his chance. 

When he reaches your breast, you arch into him. “Keigo—”

You catch the low rumble in his throat, slotting your nipple with his mouth. He sucks harshly, the lewd noises spilling into the air, joining another gasp of his name from your lips. 

He pulls back a little to grab your breasts in both hands, pressing them together to give them as much equal, hungry attention. 

After a moment, Keigo’s attention skates downwards, thumbs pressing into your hip bones, wet kisses smattering all over your stomach. 

Despite the sloppy pace, there’s a reverence in the way Keigo spoils your body. Almost ritualistic and innate. His touch searches and finds the right spots with ease, even parts of your body you didn’t realize were sensitive. Like your rib cage. He sinks his teeth there to leave a loving mark. 

His pace dials down the lower he sinks, then stops when his eyes are reunited with your wet heat.

You can’t describe his expression beyond calling it a trance. Flushed cheeks, lidded eyes, a gaping maw scorching your pussy with his breaths. More surprising, is the loss of his silver-tongue. He licks his lips, but says nothing, like words would fail him if he tried. A certified yapper silenced. 

Then his wings open up, feathers ruffling in light tremors. A few shake free and one lands between your breasts. You take it, running your thumb along the quill.

Keigo shivers. You lift a brow, stroking the feather again, watching him bristle. You don’t recall this happening in the manga. 

“Keigo?” you utter and it’s like his senses snap together. 

He blinks, eyes crawling up to meet yours. A predacious grin forms around his gaping mouth. “Still here, birdy. Just admiring this beautiful pussy of yours—”

Whatever restraint he had left fades in seconds. He tugs you closer and spreads your thighs wide. Dangling his tongue, he gives you another heated look. You watch a dribble of saliva meet your clit, the final warning before Keigo plunges his tongue deep inside of you. 

Pleasure sparks under your skin, glimpses of stars enter your sights. 

It’s all tongue, swiping and thrusting, while Keigo’s talons pierce into your thighs to keep you still. You tremble, already so close to reaching your peak, something Keigo seems privy to. 

He switches to give your clit the most attention, demanding, “You better cum on my fucking face, birdy…”

That authority sends you spiraling, pure ecstasy bursts in your vision, cumming on his tongue. “Keigo!”

“That’s it, that’s it—” he chokes on a grunt, wings tense in the air. “That’s my birdy—fuck—make a mess!”

He slurps every drop, groaning like the pleasure is equally his.

Thigh twitching and muscles numb from being pinned down, you’re mindless as Keigo laps you up with an endless greed. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed. Minutes? Or maybe only a few seconds, because Keigo gives your pussy a gentle kiss before he rises to look at you. 

He smirks. “Still with me?”

You puff out a weak laugh. “Still here…” 

Keigo crawls over, takes your jaw, rewarding you with a fiery kiss to the lips. His front nestles between your thighs. At the press of his erection, a whimper breaks loose from your throat. 

“Not enough for you, huh? Want me to fuck you? Need me to stuff you with my cock?”

“Mhm…” is the only thing you manage.  

Thankfully, Keigo doesn’t torture you any longer. He chuckles, sliding off the bed without looking away. “Make sure those eyes don’t roll out, baby,” he says in preamble, unbuckling his belt. 

You prop yourself on your elbows, eager to watch him strip the last of his clothes. You don’t care how much of a voyeur you’re being. That ship has sailed. 

Keigo slides his pants and boxers off in a hurry. 

His cock springs out and a wave of renewed arousal washes over your body. 

It’s…far better than the illustrations. Far better than your own fantasies. It’s impressive, it’s endowed .

It’s beautiful… Hard and thick, a vein wrapped around the shaft. The tip is flushed a deep red, topped with a pearl of pre-cum.  

Keigo returns to the bed, casting his form of yours. His eyes ride up your stomach, over the valley of your breasts, then finally screech to a halt at your gaze. 

You wonder what you must look like to him because a reflection of your own carnal desire stares back at you tenfold. Keigo’s sharp eyes, pupils blown in a dark vortex, pulling you in deeper. Beautiful, slick lips, agape as he takes a staggered breath.  

He’s always been a master of control. But seeing him in this state triggers a new level of desire within you. For that resolve of his to chip away—to witness a raw, animalistic layer unravel. 

The tip of his dick slides across your center. Rock hard and so fucking heavy, your hips buck up for more friction, turning you into a mewling mess. 

Keigo, however, is no better than you, lust weighing his voice down like iron. “You ready for me?” 

Another pitiful whine pours from your mouth. Words are difficult. Your mind has gone static, too frustrated to think. 

A sharp hiss echoes from above. Keigo bites down on a grin. “Fuck…you’re a vision like this.” Strong hands press down on your thighs, a delicious ache, eclipsed with the feel of Keigo’s dick stroking the seam of your pussy. “Can’t hold back anymore.”

Desperation is caught between Keigo’s lidded eyes. A feral kind of hunger that matches a beast's after staving off for too long. 

“Keigo…” you whine, your hand skims downwards to your pussy. Fingers splay out your folds in a plea. 

“Oh…” Keigo groans, a shudder running from every feather down to his spine. “My name belongs in your mouth. Say it again.”

“Keigo.”

“Fuck…just like that.” He meshes his lips to yours with bruising force, consuming your moans. When he pushes off, he takes your legs, folding them at the knees to crush them between your bodies. “Gotta give you the real, authentic ‘Hawks’ experience,” he growls with a hint of humor. 

His dick nudges your opening. Your pussy flutters, hoping to catch him. But Keigo does the rest, too impatient to wait, he pushes himself in. “Count the inches, baby.”

One...two...the stretch is intoxicating. 

Three...four...his length pulses in your heat. 

Five…six…seven…you lose count of the rest as Keigo buries it all to a hilt. 

Together, you moan in bliss.

Keigo waits a moment for you to adjust and for him to bask in the way your walls suck him in. When that moment passes, he says, “Moving now.”

Your arms enfold around his neck as he pulls out fully and thrusts back in. 

He fucks you with unbridled fervor. Keigo mutters a string of curses, reaching your ears like a melody. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking perfect.”

On impulse, your hand slides down to the base between his wings. You press into it, fingers knotting in his feathers. 

“Ah—baby, my wings, yes, play with my wings—touch them—”

Between his thrusts inside of you and his pleas, your hands are clumsy brushing through the plumage. You lack any sort of technique, but Keigo responds in favor, moaning in your ear while his wings bristle at your touch.

The animalistic display sends a spark down to your center and you clench around his length.

Keigo chuckles, though it’s strained. “Shit, the way you just got even tighter now…fuck...you feel so fucking good—”

While his pace starts to lose rhythm, the stamina has yet to fail him, nor does he ever miss hitting your sensitive spots. Each sharp thrust brings you closer to your climax. 

Keigo can read your body, gauging how close you are. “Let me feel you cum on my cock—please cum on my cock, birdy, fuck—”

It’s nothing but babbling from him now. He looks at you, a hint of vulnerability hidden in that feral vortex. And with a few more harsh strokes your senses bubble over and fizz into euphoria.  

“That’s my birdy,” he rasps into your mouth, praising you with a loving kiss before he bucks his hips a few more times, triggering his own release. 

He spills inside of you, warm and sticky, you savor the feeling as you both catch your breath. You also take the moment to cherish his appearance. 

Dewy skin, pink cheeks, slick all over his lips and chin. Some strands of his classic windswept hair cling to his forehead. You brush them away, meeting his gaze.

He leans into your touch, slipping his arms beneath your back to draw you in and rain kisses all over your face. 

Your laughter echoes in the room, your senses fluttering back like a loose feather. 

Keigo gulps, taking another deep breath. “Well…that's my kind of page turner.”

You snort, bristling at the new onslaught of kisses on your neck. “Nothing compares to the real thing.”

Keigo coos into your pulse. “A book can only show you so much. It can stir that imagination of yours, but…” He kisses you on the lips. “It can’t fuck you. That’s what I'm meant for.”

After this, you doubt you’ll be able to look at the doujinshi the same way. That version of Hawks may have been a fun fantasy, but Keigo is much more special. 

Without warning, you’re flipped over. You only register your face pressed into the sheets before Keigo hikes your hips up so that your ass is on full display. He rubs the tip of his dick against your slit. It’s already hard again, leaking against your folds. 

He brushes the hair from your nape, folding over to whisper in your ear. “That was round one, birdy. Still got to mark up this pretty, delicate back of yours.”

You shudder with excitement, hoping you’ll be able to keep up with Keigo’s stamina. However long that lasts.

So, it’s true? He has a rut? He's in rut?

Keigo takes your hips in his hands, and you brace yourself, grasping onto the sheets. Whether it is or it isn’t, you don’t care to know.  

..............................................

Mirko sends off the civilians she just rescued with a wave. The authorities will handle the rest as she returns to her patrol, maybe even grab a quick dinner beforehand.

She fishes for her phone in her suit’s pocket and considers maybe meeting up with other heroes if they’d like to join.  

Tapping at the screen, she’s met with two notifications.  

[You – 6:40pm]: Did I ever thank you for that manga? 😉🙏

[Hawks – 7:06pm]: I owe you one!!! 

Mirko cackles. No questions, no explanations, no text replies needed. At least now, she knows to rule you and Hawks out for dinner plans tonight. “Pervs."

a/n: adding to the pile of 'hawks in rut' stories with my own twist! hope you enjoyed! and happy 2025!!

[thetxtdevil]

𝓣𝐡𝐞 𝓥𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝓞𝐟 𝓐𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚

The Siren's Call

Siren!Soobin x Human/Fish!Reader

synopsis: The siren couldn’t do it, he latched onto your body with different intensities. His instincts wanted his talons to tear your soft flesh until the sapphire water turned into a murky red. However, something in his chest scorched every time his grip on you tightened with harm. The siren couldn’t commit to his kill.

content(spoilers): MDNI smut, mysterious, fem.reader, reader isn't a mermaid but she isn't fully human... yeah idk, my version of Nosferatu but it's of siren soobin, merpeople, biting, scratching, descriptions of blood, clit stim, soobin has two dicks, double penetration, breeding kink

word count: 4k

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄… In a land far far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky, and the water sparkled under the glowing sun. Where mountains rose high and in which long, deep caves ran. Where the sea met the shore in a collision of tall waves. Where the undead walked among the living. Where the winged flew above the finned. In a land where things beyond any reason and rhyme existed. And amongst those very beings, within the veils of Aethera, there was…

A bright blue sky, reflecting the deep lapis ocean, becomes dark and dreary. The sun fights to shine through the grey clouds, causing parts of the atmosphere to look pink. The warm hue casts over your face, contrasting the cool waters below. It was a sight to see for the creatures in the sea to admire, something to crave for.

"Red skies at night, sailors' delight."

A groggy voice of the captain says behind you also taking a short break to look at the view. You turn your head to see all the sailors working hard on the deck of the ship. Hair flowing in the wind getting into your eyes you turn back to watch the sun disappear. A chill runs down your back, a feeling like ice water being dumped on you as a luring song reaches your ears.

A falsetto voice calls out to you, the melody is so soothing, that you touch your chest as if you could feel the song in your heart. A strong pull to the ocean had your lazy feet step closer to the railing of the ship. Your grip and feet almost felt like they were slipping, ready to fall into the salty depths. So close to reaching the unknown, you were taken away from your temptation feeling a hand grab onto you. You again turn your head to see the captain, "My lady, what are you doing?" You stutter over your words just to have the captain of the ship lose interest and continue to order the sailors around. His dark eyes rolled, and the feeling of judgment was not unfamiliar to you.

Yet you ask yourself. What were you doing? Why did you want to fall? Your worries and questions soon faded along with your memory of the beautiful song from the oceans.

Days of rocking on a ship were not for you, your eyes grew tired, and dry patches surrounded your young face. You were ready to meet your new home, to get away from the alluring sapphire waves. Thirsting to float among the sea life, but you knew you shouldn’t give in to your pleasures. The continuous nightly encounters of the same bewitching sound from the deep blue ocean weren't helping your resentment of jumping in. Every night, you couldn't help but get excited to hear the sweet sounds. It seemed to control your sleeping figure, unconsciously walking to the edge until a sailor on night duty had to drag you back to your chambers, but you would do it all over again just to hear the mystery.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The candle-lit chamber was the only warmth you felt from the foggy day. Your maid straightens your long cream nightgown to lay nicely under the wool bedcover. She fixed your hair making sure it wouldn’t be messed up in the morning for it was your last night on the ship. “Now dear, I don’t want any of your suspicious outings tonight.” You nod your head obeying your maid’s wishes, she smiles, “Get some rest dear, you’ll be at your new home tomorrow.” Watching the woman’s lips purse huffing out the flame to your comforting candle, leaving you in the dark.

Clenching to the itchy blanket, the waves pick you and the world around you up and down. You felt used to the feeling by now; you would've been relaxed if it wasn’t for the piercing song drilling into your eardrum. Your clammy hands hooked onto the bedding, trying their best to stay put, which only made the call to you louder and more excruciating. Letting go of your stronghold on the blanket you cover your ears, clenching your eyes shut until tears were streaming down your sickly cheeks. You imagined yourself at the deck railing, lifting your fist in the pouring rain, telling the god-awful sound to stop calling for you and leave you in peace. Then the screeching melody stops.

Your body feels light. Softly opening your eyes, your breath catches in your throat, and you are in shock at your surroundings. Hunching over the wood of the deck’s rails, you were being pelted down by dagger-like raindrops. The fog was so thick the only thing you could see was the passing waters of the ocean against the ship. The wave smacks against the surface, making your body fall on the floor beneath you. You cry feeling your grip loosen, the strength of the wind and the slippery rain had your fingers shaking off of the railing. Looking back down at the crashing waves your eyes widen seeing a creature swimming near the ship with its dark long fishtail paired with sharp wings that could make it fly up and grab you. A strong gust of wind pushes the ship drastically making the floor go vertical causing you to slide down into the waters below.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The high-pitched squawking of seagulls contrasts with the soothing tides of the beach you wake up on. Lifting your head off the sand, you wince at the aching feeling of your dry cracking skin. The environment around you was calm, the skies were a beautiful blue with fluffy peach clouds. The glitter-beige sand beneath you was soft and comforting, it almost made you want to sink in it and stay there. You scoot your bottom in the sand until you hear giggles as light as the waves. It is alluring in its way, but an unexplainable ache fills your heart, wishing your ears were filled with that falsetto song that haunted you.

Stretching out of the sand, your legs wobble fighting against gravity. You search for the uplifting giggle, it doesn’t take long to find something that leaves you astonished. Mermaids and mermen in the flesh, each sunbathing while unintentionally showing off their unique colored fishtail. Your mouth gaps like a fish out of water watching these creatures in front of you, they were something you’ve never seen before.

In the group of merpeople, you notice one merman had their attention on you. He was beautiful like a pearl sitting in a pile of rocks. He had bright, blonde hair that framed a soft face sculpted by the gods, and dewy skin that melted into the iridescent scales of his tail. The merman’s equally bright eyes look into yours, shooting worry of being caught. Your heart pounds against your chest, turning around on your heels, ready to run away until you hear a call from one of the merpeople.

“Ha! Easy pickings, stumbling into our circle.” said an indigo-tailed merman.

“This human will be fun to play with!” a yellow-tailed mermaid grins mischievously.

“S-she’s not human…” the pearl merman says, making all the merpeople’s heads turn, “Look at her, hair covered in sand, skin burnt from the sun, she’s not from the kingdom, I think she’s from a shipwreck.”

The beautiful merman’s observations made all of them look at your distant figure in intrigue. You washed up on a not-so-normal island, far from deserted, far from anything you know from your human life. The fact that you survived from wherever you came from and came upon the shore alive and in one piece could be enough to prove you weren’t like the humans hidden in the Kingdom of Aethera tucked on the island.

Stomping in the hot seaside, distraught by the predicament you have yourself in. Mind spiraling, your thoughts stumble like your feet in the wet sand. You let out a huff of defeat, feeling your face getting hot from the bubbling-up tears. The sway of the waves did nothing to calm you, canceling out your surroundings, not hearing the swishing water getting closer.

“If you’re not human, then what are you?” Your crouched body loses balance, falling into the shoreline. The yellow-tail mermaid lays on your stomach, elbows lifting her torso dripping from being in the ocean. You scrunch your eyebrows at her, not knowing what to do or say. “Where did you come from?”

You look away from the golden creature, collecting your thoughts. “I-uh, I don’t remember much,” your voice sounded spent but had the attention of the mermaid. “I was on a ship, moving to… to…” Your voice fades as if you triggered something. The siren’s call softly pierces your ears. You’ve become accustomed to looking for the creature making the sound, only to see the mermaid next to you shake her head.

Her dark spiral hair shakes with the disappointment on her face, “You must’ve been through a lot, you don’t even know how you got here.” You frown at the mermaid’s statement then hear a random giggle. “Let’s forget about the past, and play!”

Rejoining the merpeople’s circle, you thought that you had nothing else to lose. So you spent hours soaking in the sun listening to the stories of the merfolk and the island of Aethera. Eventually diving into the bright blue waters that you had been lured to yet avoiding ever since you woke up.

The chill ocean shivers up your spine, instantly cooling down your heated body. Diving into the blue water, soon being surrounded by a rainbow of tails. Splashing at each other's faces relishing in the cool breeze that naturally moved your group farther away from where you started. Passing a makeshift seaweed ball to one another, laughing at the frustrated little one who couldn’t reach for it. Everything felt nice, you felt content. You weren’t sinking in your thoughts anymore, and you were not haunted by anything.

Suddenly the water surface flushes above your head, and you are being dragged down. Fighting the capturer was no use, raising your hand to the merpeople above. They sink lower trying to reach for you until they see the dark tail and the webbed fingers that clawed at your legs. All the air escapes your lips when you watch the rainbow of tails flash away from your reach.

Drowning deep into the waters you were faced with the owner of the call that had haunted you. The creature’s talons trace the curve of your thighs to your waist, a long tail wrapping around your body. His razor teeth grin at the sight of you looking proud of his captured prey. Your mind becomes dizzy from the overwhelming events. In much need to take in air, but you can't. Your vision darkens from lack of oxygen making the creature watch your body go limp.

The siren analyzes you and your simple state, why did I pick the most beautiful human? He has been watching you for a while, admiring your interest in ocean life, smiling every time a fish jumps out of the water, and keeping count of the new barnacles that formed on the wood of the ship. Your beauty stunned the siren, how unique you looked compared to the others on deck, you danced through the crowd of men just to watch the wave pass by, salty water crinkled your blowing hair, and how alluring your eyes reflected the captivating color of the blue sea.

The siren couldn’t do it, he latched onto your body with different intensities. His instincts wanted his talons to tear your soft flesh until the sapphire water turned into a murky red. However, something in his chest scorched every time his grip on you tightened with harm. The siren couldn’t commit to his kill.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

An agonizing pain splits through your head, as you open them to the starry sky. It takes you time to remember what happened then you get a glimpse of the strange man or creature. He sat humming to himself, you were able to identify little details about him. Slouched over causing his dirty blond hair to hang over his eyes who watched as his talons traced shapes into the glistening sand. Onyx fishtail lifting at the tip, paired with bat-like wings lazily splayed out the bony structure curling in every time he breathed. His lip-biting made him look deep in contemplation.

To kill her or not to kill her.

By the state you observe yourself in, it looks like he has been fighting with himself all night. Clothes shredded and skin covered in bruises and scrapes. The scars aren't deep, bruises seem to be a mixture of love bites and forceful tugging. What did this creature want from you?

You lay there watching the siren, staring at the shoreline's roll-in. A small noise rises from his throat, a familiar song that again evokes you. It feels like mind control. Something in your chest feels like a rope is lifting you to get closer, but you feel too weak, and it hurts to get up. “W-what are you doing to me?” Your voice cracks through your dry throat.

The song abruptly pauses, and he looks back at you. You are reminded of his beauty yet you feel fear watching his wings widening in defense. His body twists on the beach, and his strong arms crawl towards you. His sharp pupils are on you, bouncing from one feature to another. You flinch when you see his taloned finger raising to your face, only to feel the light sensation of a caress.

You take another good look at the creature in the shadow of the dim night. The mixture of different species was so different, disgusting, you should hate it, but looking back at his big dark eyes you couldn’t help but melt under the gaze of his soft smile. Puffy eyes squint as he smiles, the smile that is knife-like but wide, showing off a handsome human feature of dimples. You both smile at each other like the world is somehow complete, was it because you are under the siren’s call, or was it just a rarity?

The shimmer of the damp Adam’s apple moves, and his plush lips open and close. After a while, a grunt finally forms from his mouth, “S-sor-ry” he points to himself while his eyes look over your distraught state, “f-for-give.”

Your eyes narrowed, trying to understand the siren. Your head was overwhelmed by thoughts once more. You wanted to curse yourself for feeling weak against your predator. Feeling weak to fall into the trap of forgiving him. “What do you want from me?” Your voice sounded like jagged rocks compared to the creature’s voice of smooth sand.

“I-i, t-to kill,” He pauses noticing your quicking breath rate, “b-but I can’t.” You two look into each other’s starkly different eyes. You thought to yourself, if he wanted to kill you, he could’ve done it already, unless he usually tortures his food like this. “There's something different… about you.”

You quirk your head to the side, the siren was hard to understand in general but that comment left you lost. Again, his pointed pupils rake through your body, only this time you watch as his pupils dilate into round orbs. His ragged-finned forearm lifts and taloned fingers graze your sides, big hands lightly squeezing your flesh, causing an intense warmth to build up in your stomach. His dimples pop, flashing his sharp teeth at your reaction, “S-so pretty.”

You grunt at the feeling you had from the unnerving complement. Then suddenly the creature’s teeth hid behind pursed lips, leaning in for a kiss. His surprisingly soft lips meet yours like how an ocean traces the shore. He moans tasting the salt against your cracked lips, he held himself back from using his fangs to cut your pretty lips. Breathlessly, you tear away from the siren's hold to see him pout. You felt like a lost cause, barely remembering your past, being torn away from the merpeople, stuck on an unusual island, and now you’re kissing a creature who’s put you under some type of spell. You gave up, letting the sea take you just like how it has always been, “Whatever happens to me, let me at least know your name.”

“Soobin” the siren sings his name before kissing you again. Pointed nails dig into your waist as his other webbed hand cups your face, keeping you close. A part of you was still screaming for freedom, to get away from the monster, yet you let it happen, you let Soobin do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t so torturous, the kisses traveling down your neck felt soothing with the sounds of the rising tides. Soobin’s grip on you tightens making an ache between your thighs and back arch. He clenched his fingers on your ruined dress, ripping it into shreds and leaving you exposed in front of the siren.

Every curve of your body had the creature salivating, he had never stopped to admire a human before. Soobin lowers his head, latching onto your hardened nipple. Your hands bury themselves into his sea-crisp hair, sounds bubbling in your throat. You couldn’t believe you could feel any better until you felt Soobin's nails scrape down your torso and between your legs. He made sure his talons didn’t poke at your sensitive flesh as the nubs of his fingers rubbed soft circles. The siren shivers at the wetness he discovers while touching you wanting nothing more than to have his dicks in it.

Whimpers passing through your plush lips were music to Soobin’s ears. His dimples were very evident as he cherished your withering state. Never having the pleasure of being touched, never in your wildest dream would you think it would be by such a dream before you. Your insides were tightening, you were seeing stars among the stars as your whole body shook. A cry of your orgasm awakens the quiet beach granting a smile from the siren.

You black out for a moment from the immense pleasure to be brought back to reality feeling Soobin’s tongue back to your tits. Stuttering his name you were faced with his dilated pupils that sparkled like the sky. The siren starts to hum against your skin, becoming more obsessed with you by the minute. The song fades in his throat before his deep voice asks, “Can you take me in, all of me?”

Again, you give Soobin a questioning look, not experienced with the creature and the situation. Scanning his prideful face, your eyes drift down to find something peculiar. Among the siren’s deep ebony tail, the scales around his v-line lifted to two erected dicks standing side by side. A deep gulp passes through your throat glazing back at the creature’s eyes. “C-can you?” He grunts, scooting impossibly closer to you, bodies molding into each other. You feel his bulges against your cunt causing your breath to hitch. His round nose outlines your cheek and leaves pecks waiting for your answer. A soft, “O-okay” made Soobin’s keen teeth flash in response to yours.

He hums the tune that has haunted you all the many nights before this one as he deeply kisses you. However, this time you didn’t get agitated by the vocals, instead you felt calm, knowing he was right there. He lines one of his dicks to your cunt, slowly slipping the tip in, not furthering his movements until he has his other pulsing cock line your ass. You whine loudly, eyes clenched tight, digging your nails into his arms. The siren kisses your neck soothing your nerves, while pushing into you. Soobin stayed still, he felt high off the feeling of your holes clenching around him, becoming addicted to your warmth and slickness. The creature couldn’t hold himself back any longer, and like how he swims in the deep sea, his hips skillfully thrusting into your two weeping holes

Overwhelmed by the mix of pain and pleasure, sweat accumulates on your burnt skin as you start to feel light-headed. The moon rises overcasting silver hues over you two. The wind picks up the shoreline getting closer to your connected bodies. Water splashes onto your form making you both gasp at the freezing temperature. Soobin’s furrowed eyebrows relax, opening his eyes, a crooked smile forms seeing your head thrown back moaning out to the gods. Eyes study your complexion to notice your goosebumps turning. “So, this is why I couldn’t kill you.” Too deep in your state of pleasure you don’t realize your changing appearance. Soobin grazes his fingers along your smooth skin that sporadically becomes bumpy, as red scales form. “Red skies at night, a siren’s delight.”

The sight would be alarming to the usual but Soobin was the unusual. He admired the gills splitting on your neck matched his dark love bites next to them. The glow of rubies on your skin caused hunger within the siren. Soobin wanted you more than he ever did. Pulling himself out, you whined loudly. The instant emptiness made you grab onto the siren above you. With both dicks in his webbed palm, he lines both of them into your cunt. Your eyes widen, “Soobin, I don’t think I can-”

“You can and you will.”

All this time he thought his instincts were encouraging to kill you, but now he realized this was different. Heat flushed through his body, groin aching to release inside of you. Needed you to take his seed, make you full and round, perfect to have his kind to sing through the sea. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, the drag of his two dicks had you screaming, overstimulated by the ache. Soobin clenches his fists in the sand, shoving all of him into you absorbing your gasps and whines against his lips. Your mouth opens feeling the siren consistently hit that perfect spot with both of his tips. His talons flow down your torse, lightly scraping the softness of your belly feel the bulging of your belly. Back arching, nails drawing cold blood from Soobin’s arms. The sea engulfs you two like a blanket, yet you feel warm, safe, and full.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You surrendered, letting the siren consume you. This was a contract to stay in the Veils of Aethera forever. Accepting life on the unpredictable island that was haunted by demons that saved fallen angels, where witches cackled causing chaos, and a place where dragons can stretch their wings towards the cool blue sky. Just like how you felt about Soobin, you quickly learn that it wasn’t a bad place forever.

A cool morning breeze snaked up your spine, waking you up to the mixed sapphire and peach atmosphere. Stepping out of your small beach cabin, your feet sank in the damp sand from the shore flooding during the night. You took a moment to admire the view of crashing waves rolling in the rocking sound of serenity. Moving closer to the ocean, you slouch down, offering your hand to fill the salty liquid. Splashing it on your face, you hydrated the scarlet scales that still decorate your body.

A sorrowful sigh passes your lips as a weight fills your chest. For an island to be so unforeseen and full of the unusual you hate to wake up alone. The crashing sound of the ocean fades in your ears to be outcasted by the familiar falsetto song, but this time it is among multiple voices. The choir of the eerie melody brought warmth to your body, turning your head towards the call, you stop to smile.

In the distance, you can see your beloved siren sitting in the wet sand with smaller sirens surrounding him. An assortment of dury-colored fins, all sharing his complexion. One small fry on his lap, two sunbathing next to him, and three splashing their tails in the ocean. Heat rushes to your eyes seeing all of them together back to see you. The sirens call for you, like a rope tied around your heart leading you to them.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

As Always A Nuisance,

TxT’s Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @biteyoubiteme, @izzyy-stuff, @hyukascampfire, @luvsicktyun, @beomiracles, @liverspaghett, @prince-jjae, @blue-moon-514

[cloudyluun]

Press play (p3) | boyfriend!harry

Summary: The morning after a night of absolute ruin, you and Harry find yourselves tangled in lazy kisses, teasing conversations, and the lingering idea of uploading your tapes for the world to see. The thought is tempting, but the decision remains unspoken—left hanging in the air between flirtation and something far deeper. But while Harry is usually the one in control, you have other plans. And when you leave him with a final warning? He has no idea what’s coming next. 

A/N: This chapter is so cute and fluffy, I could cry. 🥹 Soft morning cuddles, sleepy kisses, playful teasing; who is this wholesome couple??? But don’t let the sweetness fool you, because the tension is very much still there. And the idea of uploading their tapes? Yeah, that’s definitely not going away anytime soon.

Oh, you thought Harry was always going to be in charge? Think again. 😈 Chapter 4 is coming tomorrow, and let’s just say… Mr. Control Freak isn’t quite ready for what’s about to hit him. Pray for him. (Or don’t. He deserves it.)

Prepare yourselves, hydrate, and get plenty of rest, besties. It’s your turn to wreck him. 🔥

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 

Fluff & domestic softness (yes, they do just eat breakfast like normal people sometimes)

Teasing & power play (but this time, Y/N is taking the upper hand)

Discussions of filming intimate content (and making a lot of money from it)

Harry being an absolute menace (as always)

Y/N being an even bigger menace (because it’s her time to shine)

not proofread yet, sorry babes!

[part 1] [part 2]

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the warmth. It’s everywhere—wrapped around your skin, pressed into your muscles, woven into the air itself. The sheets are soft, tangled around your legs, still carrying the lingering scent of sex and Harry. The room is drenched in morning light, golden and drowsy, seeping through the cracks in the curtains. It catches in the dust motes that swirl lazily above the bed, illuminating the aftermath of last night’s ruin.

You’re sore. In the best way.

It’s a slow, heavy ache, a dull throb in every place he touched you—your thighs, your wrists, your hips. Faint bruises bloom where his fingers dug into your skin, where his teeth scraped over delicate flesh. There’s an unmistakable soreness between your legs, a delicious reminder of how thoroughly he took you apart, how many times he made you come, how greedy he was about it.

But despite all of that—despite the exhaustion still pulling at your limbs—there’s a deep, unshakable comfort in it.

Harry is still fast asleep beside you.

You take a slow breath, turning your head slightly to look at him. He’s rarely this peaceful. Usually, he’s the first to wake up, always restless, always reaching for you before his mind has even caught up with his body. But right now, he’s still. Relaxed. The sharp edges of him are softened in sleep—the furrow that’s almost always in his brow is gone, the usual smirk on his lips replaced by something softer. His curls are a mess, wild against the pillow, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. His breathing is slow and even, his bare chest rising and falling beneath the sheets.

He looks so different like this.

Gone is the dominant, unrelenting man from last night—the one who wrecked you in every way possible, who made you beg, who captured every desperate, broken sound on film so he could keep it forever. This version of him—the one curled up beside you, arm slung lazily over your waist, face slack with sleep—is something else entirely.

And you can’t stop looking at him.

Your fingers twitch with the urge to touch him, to brush the curls from his forehead, to run your fingertips along the curve of his jaw. But you hesitate. He looks so peaceful, and it’s rare to catch him like this—to see him unguarded, free from the weight of control.

So instead, you just watch.

You let your gaze drift over the slope of his nose, the way his lips are slightly parted, the faint stubble shadowing his jaw. There’s something about it—about this stolen moment of stillness—that makes your chest ache in a way you don’t quite understand.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until you shift slightly, intending to slip out of bed, but the moment you do, his grip tightens.

A low, sleepy noise rumbles from his throat—somewhere between a sigh and a groan—and before you can even react, he pulls you back against him.

“Not going anywhere, angel,” he mumbles, voice thick and hoarse with sleep. His face buries into the curve of your neck, his nose pressing against your skin, warm breath fanning over your collarbone. “Stay.”

Your heart stutters in your chest.

His voice is different like this. Lower, rougher, still laced with sleep. There’s no teasing, no command behind it—just quiet, half-conscious need.

You swallow, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling. “H, I was just—”

He groans again, cutting you off, tightening his arm around your waist. “No,” he mutters, his lips brushing against your skin. “Too early. Stay here.”

You let out a soft laugh, but you don’t fight him. Because if you’re honest with yourself, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

So you relax against him, sinking back into the warmth of the sheets, letting your fingers trace lazy patterns over the back of his hand where it rests against your stomach.

“Fine,” you murmur. “I’ll stay.”

Harry hums, satisfied, and his grip eases slightly. But he doesn’t let go. Not even for a second.

And you don’t mind. Not at all.

You shift slightly in his arms, stretching just enough to work out the delicious soreness lingering in your muscles. But the moment you move, Harry makes a low, grumbling sound, his arm tightening instinctively around your waist. His lips find your bare shoulder, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses against your skin, warm and unhurried.

“Mm. Too early for all that wiggling, angel,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep. His lips brush along your collarbone, his curls tickling your skin. “Be good and stay still.”

You smile, letting out a soft breath. “I’m not wiggling.”

He nips at your shoulder, just enough to make you squirm. “Liar.”

A sleepy laugh spills from your lips, and you melt against him, letting yourself relax fully into his embrace. His warmth is addictive, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back impossibly soothing.

There’s a comfortable silence—just the soft rustling of sheets, the distant hum of the outside world filtering through the curtains. You feel his fingers trailing absentminded circles along your hip, the touch light, mindless.

And then, his voice, low and raspy against your skin.

“How do you feel?”

You let out a long, contented sigh. “Like I got hit by a truck.” You pause, then add, “A very good truck.”

Harry’s chest rumbles with quiet laughter, the sound deep and lazy. “That’s my girl.” His fingers brush up your side, dragging slowly over your ribs before settling at your waist again. “You took it so well.”

You bite back a smile, warmth blooming in your chest—not just from his words, but from the way he says them. Like he’s proud of you. Like he’s still replaying every moment of last night in his head.

A few seconds pass before you nuzzle closer, pressing your nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling the faint mix of his skin, his shampoo, and the lingering traces of sweat and sex. Your fingers trail absentmindedly along his forearm where it’s wrapped around you, tracing the veins, the soft hairs, the heat of him.

“Harry?”

“Mm?”

You hesitate for a second, then tilt your head slightly. “Do you ever—like—re-watch the tapes just for the… I don’t know. The memory of it?”

His fingers pause briefly against your skin. Then you feel his smirk.

“You mean not just to get off?”

Your face heats instantly. “Shut up.”

He chuckles, shifting behind you, and then suddenly, he’s moving. Before you can react, he’s rolling you onto your back, pinning you under his weight. His arms cage you in, his body warm and solid as he hovers above you, curls falling into his eyes.

“C’mon, angel,” he teases, tilting his head. “You wanna know if I sit around reminiscing about our greatest hits?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “I regret asking.”

Harry laughs, prying your hands away, fingers lacing through yours as he pins them gently beside your head. His green eyes gleam with amusement, but beneath it, there’s something softer. Something real.

“I do, y’know,” he murmurs, his teasing tone fading into something more genuine. “Re-watch them, I mean.”

Your stomach flips.

His gaze drifts over your face like he’s memorizing it, like he’s seeing something far beyond just the moments you’ve captured on film.

“It’s not just about the fucking,” he continues, voice quieter now. “It’s about you.” His fingers squeeze around yours, grounding you. “The way you react to me. The way you let go completely. S’fucking beautiful, angel.”

A slow, creeping warmth spreads through your chest, something too big to name. Your throat feels tight.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out at first.

Finally, you manage, “You actually mean that, don’t you?”

His brows furrow slightly, like the question itself is ridiculous. “Course I do.”

Your lips part slightly, a little stunned by how easily he says it. But before you can even attempt to respond, he dips down, brushing his lips over yours in the softest, slowest kiss.

Not greedy. Not demanding. Just there.

And you kiss him back, sinking into it, letting him steal the breath from your lungs.

It’s different from last night—from the rough hands, the desperate moans, the complete and utter ruin he put you through. This is something else entirely. Something unhurried, something patient. The kind of kiss that lingers long after he pulls away, leaving a ghost of warmth on your lips.

When he finally does pull back, his forehead rests against yours, the space between you practically nonexistent. His thumb strokes over your cheek, his other hand still wrapped around yours, holding you there like he has no plans of letting go.

You should say something. Acknowledge the weight of what he just admitted—that he doesn’t just watch your tapes to get off, but because he sees you in them. Because he loves the way you give yourself to him.

But instead, a different thought slips out.

“So… you know how you always say the cameras capture every detail?”

Harry hums, tilting his head slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. “Yeah?”

You hesitate, suddenly feeling a little shy. Your fingers fiddle with the hem of the sheet, your lips pressing together before you finally force yourself to say it.

“I was just thinking… people would probably pay a lot of money to see us.”

The room goes silent.

Harry blinks.

Then his smirk starts to spread—slow, lazy, something dark flickering behind his still-sleepy green eyes. His grip on your waist tightens just slightly, like he’s grounding himself, like he can’t quite believe you just said that.

“You want to put our tapes online?” His voice is slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring the words as they roll off his tongue.

You shrug, trying to seem nonchalant, even though your heart is pounding. “I mean… why not? People are out here making entire careers off this stuff. We already have the content.”

His smirk deepens, and you instantly realize what you’ve done. You’ve handed him ammunition.

Harry releases your hand, stretching with a satisfied groan before reaching for his phone on the nightstand. He unlocks it with a lazy swipe, eyes still on you as he taps on the screen.

“Let’s see…” He clears his throat dramatically. “‘How to monetize your sex tapes’—”

A laugh bursts from your lips as you smack his arm, snatching the phone out of his hands before he can get any further. “I didn’t mean right this second, idiot.”

He chuckles, entirely unbothered, letting you steal his phone like it doesn’t matter. “Alright, alright.” He stretches again, arms folding behind his head, exposing the sharp cut of his biceps, the ink curling along his skin. “But you’re not wrong.”

Your brows furrow slightly. “About what?”

Harry turns his head, tilting it slightly as his eyes rake over you—slow, thorough, like he’s considering something. His tongue flicks over his bottom lip before he finally says, “We could make a ridiculous amount of money.”

Your stomach flips.

It’s one thing for you to say it—to throw the idea out there in a casual, offhanded way. But hearing him say it? Hearing him actually consider it?

That’s something else entirely.

He rolls onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow, his body half-draped over yours. His fingers brush over your bare thigh, tracing idle circles against your skin as he leans in, voice dropping to something low and dangerous.

“Imagine it, angel,” he murmurs, lips grazing the corner of your mouth. “People watching you fall apart for me. Knowing they wish they could be in my place.” His teeth catch your bottom lip, a soft bite, before his tongue soothes over it. “But they never will.”

A shiver runs down your spine.

Of course he’d think about it like that. Of course, for him, this isn’t just about money—it’s about ownership. About knowing that even if the entire world saw you like this, no one else could ever actually have you.

You swallow, cheeks burning. “God, you’re insufferable.”

His smirk only grows. “C’mon, love. You like the idea too.”

You hesitate, your fingers playing with the sheets again. Because, truthfully? Yeah. You kind of do.

But you’re not about to give him that. Not yet.

Instead, you roll your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Harry chuckles, rolling onto his back, stretching like a lazy cat before threading his fingers behind his head. He looks obnoxiously pleased with himself, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m just saying, angel,” he muses. “If we did do it, we’d be the best thing on that site.”

You groan, flopping onto your stomach and burying your face into the pillow. “Oh my god, shut up.”

Harry only laughs, his hand finding the back of your thigh, squeezing just enough to make you jolt.

“Just admit it,” he teases. “You like the thought of people watching.”

You lift your head just enough to glare at him. “Okay… maybe a little.”

His smirk turns downright wicked.

“Oh, angel.” He rolls back toward you, dipping his head so his lips are right next to your ear. His breath is warm, his voice silk and sin. “You just made my fucking day.”

You shove at his chest, trying to push him away, but he just laughs, letting you struggle against his weight like it’s the most entertaining thing in the world.

And the worst part?

You’re laughing too.

It’s ridiculous, really. How quickly he can turn you into this—how easily he can strip away your composure and have you giggling under him like you’re not tangled up in sheets that still smell like sex. Like you didn’t just have a conversation about selling your own sex tapes like it was the most casual thing in the world.

He finally relents, shifting his weight off you, though not before pressing a smug kiss to your cheek. You roll your eyes, but there’s no real heat behind it, especially when he flops onto his side beside you.

And then—just like that—the teasing fades.

Not completely. The warmth, the lightness, him—that all stays. But the look in his eyes shifts, his smirk softening, something more thoughtful settling in its place.

His hand finds your hip, his fingers drawing slow, absentminded circles against your skin. He watches you for a second before finally speaking.

“You know we’d have to be careful, right?” His voice is quiet now, more serious. “No faces. No identifying stuff.”

You nod immediately. “Obviously. Just the body parts that matter.”

Harry huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Christ.” His fingers flex slightly against your hip, but his gaze stays thoughtful. “I’d never want you to feel like you have to, though.”

There’s something in his voice when he says it—something careful.

And you know why.

For all his teasing, for all his confidence, for all the ways he loves to push you, Harry has never forced anything on you. Even in the moments when he’s in complete control, when you’re bound and begging and at his mercy—especially then—he always listens. Always makes sure you want it as much as he does.

And this?

This is different. This isn’t just about a moment between you and him. It’s about putting something out there—letting the world see a piece of what belongs to only the two of you.

You smile softly, reaching for his hand where it rests on your hip. Your fingers slip between his, squeezing lightly.

“I know that, H,” you murmur. “But honestly… I like the idea of people watching.” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “Of knowing they want to be me. Or you.”

His eyes flicker with something dark.

Your cheeks warm slightly, but you don’t back down. “It’s kind of…” You bite your lip, debating how to phrase it.

Harry tilts his head, watching you. Then his smirk makes a slow return, lips curling at the corners.

“Hot?” he supplies, voice low, teasing.

You roll your eyes, but a laugh bubbles out of you. “Yeah.”

The teasing should’ve snapped you both back into that lighthearted playfulness, but it doesn’t. Instead, Harry’s expression shifts again—something even softer slipping through the cracks of his usual confidence.

He lifts his free hand, brushing his fingers over your jaw, tilting your chin up just slightly. His touch is gentle. Like he’s memorizing the shape of you. Like he’s savoring the moment before he even speaks.

And when he finally does, his voice is softer than before.

“It’s not just hot,” he murmurs. “It’s ours.”

The words settle deep in your chest, sinking into your ribs, your bones, everything.

And suddenly, the weight of it hits you—the real reason why you like the idea so much.

It’s not about the money. It’s not even really about the thrill of people watching.

It’s about him.

About the way he sees you. About the way he wants you—completely, wholly, recklessly. About the way he makes you feel like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

And the idea that anyone else could see even a fraction of that?

It should terrify you.

But instead?

It makes you want him even more.

Harry watches you carefully, his thumb tracing slow, featherlight strokes against your chin, his green eyes searching yours.

You don’t say anything.

You just kiss him.

Slow and deep, with none of the urgency from before. Just the steady, unspoken understanding that whatever this is—whatever you decide—it’s yours.

Only yours.

His lips move against yours in perfect sync, like they were made to fit together. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world—like he’s in no rush to let you go. And for a while, you let yourself get lost in it. In the way his fingers tighten against your waist, in the slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours, in the warmth of his body pressing into you.

By the time he finally pulls away, your head is spinning, your body impossibly warm beneath the sheets.

Harry smirks, thumb tracing over your swollen lips, his voice nothing more than a slow drag of heat. “That was a yes, by the way.”

You blink at him, still dazed. “What?”

His smirk widens. “That kiss. It was a yes.”

You roll your eyes, shoving at his chest with zero force. “You are so full of yourself.”

He just hums, completely unbothered, stretching his arms over his head before rolling out of bed. “C’mon, angel,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads toward the bathroom. “We need breakfast.”

Breakfast is lazy. The kind where you’re both still moving like you haven’t quite shaken off the night before—bumping into each other in the kitchen, stealing bites off each other’s plates, getting sidetracked when Harry decides he needs to have his hands on you at all times.

He leans against the counter as you make coffee, arms wrapping around your waist from behind, lips trailing over the slope of your shoulder. You roll your eyes but don’t push him away. He steals your toast. You steal it back. He makes some snide comment about how you can barely walk after last night. You kick him in the shin.

It’s easy. Natural. Like the most obscene things didn’t happen between you just hours ago.

By the time you both make it to the couch, your stomachs are full, and the weight of the morning settles over you in that perfect in-between space—where the world is quiet, and neither of you is in a hurry to do anything.

A random show plays on the TV, some series neither of you is really watching, the background noise more of a formality than anything else.

Harry lounges beside you, legs stretched out, one arm draped over the back of the couch. His other hand moves idly over your thigh, tracing patterns against your skin like his body just naturally gravitates toward you.

You lean into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his hoodie.

And yet—the conversation still lingers.

Unspoken.

Unfinished.

It’s there in the way he keeps glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, in the way his fingers slow against your thigh, in the way the weight of it presses into the space between you.

You let the silence stretch for a little longer before finally breaking it.

“So… you really think we’d break the internet?”

Harry smirks instantly, like he’s been waiting for this. He turns his head slightly, one eyebrow raising as he meets your gaze.

“Angel,” he says, completely serious, “we’d own the internet.”

You hum, considering. “It’s kind of tempting.”

His smirk twitches slightly, but he doesn’t say anything—just watches you carefully, like he’s waiting for something.

Like he’s waiting for you to make a decision.

But instead of giving him one, you simply smile—a slow, knowing curve of your lips—as you stretch, acting completely unbothered.

Harry’s eyes narrow slightly.

“You’re messing with me.”

“Maybe,” you tease, leaning in just enough to let your lips brush barely against his. “Or maybe I like keeping you on your toes.”

A muscle in his jaw flexes, and you see the way he fights the urge to grab your chin and demand an answer.

And fuck, does that feel good.

For once, he doesn’t have the upper hand. For once, you are the one pulling the strings, making him wait, making him ache for something he wants.

You see it in the way his fingers tighten slightly against your thigh.

In the way his pupils dilate, just a fraction.

In the way his breath comes a little sharper when your lips ghost over his again, still teasing, still refusing to give him exactly what he wants.

You smirk. “Something wrong, H?”

His nostrils flare slightly. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You hum, pretending to think. “Mm… maybe.”

His eyes darken.

And suddenly, you know.

You know exactly where this is going.

Because Harry hates not having control.

And right now?

He doesn’t have it.

But the best part?

You’re not done with him yet.

Not even close.

You push off the couch, stretching as you stand, your back to him.

“You better get some rest, H,” you say casually over your shoulder. “You’re gonna need it.”

Behind you, Harry groans, flopping his head back against the couch, running a hand down his face.

“Fuck me.”

You just laugh.

“Oh, I will.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[part 4 - tommorow!!]

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